


You Don't Play Games In the Octagon

by still_searching



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: 69, Barebacking, Blowjobs, F/M, Fighting, Fluff, M/M, MMA, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Orgasm Denial, Sexual Frustration, handjobs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-29
Updated: 2014-03-21
Packaged: 2018-01-06 16:12:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 15
Words: 22,974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1108886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/still_searching/pseuds/still_searching
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Scott McCall is the youngest Lightweight Champion in WFC--Werewolf Fight Club. Isaac Lahey is the first man to ever knock out Champion Scott McCall. Oops.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So I don't really know much about MMA but I do watch UFC so feel free to leave your comments on this work, on technical terms or plot stuff. Enjoy!
> 
> P.S. They're not wearing cups because they're werewolves and they heal and I'm just too lazy to make up another excuse, okay?

"What do you mean there's been a change?" Coach Deaton shouted at the PA that had just poked his head through the door to whisper something to him.

"I'm sorry, but Whittemore's unable to fight." The scrawny, pimply boy ducked his head under Deaton's glare. Deaton opened his mouth to shout again, but he was interrupted.

"Relax, Deaton. You've known that Whittemore's been unstable for the past month. We have a replacement. He's a good match for Scott." A smooth voice interrupted. Peter Hale, the Director of WFC had pushed the PA to the side and opened the door wider. He smiled at Scott past Deaton, but the warmth of his smile didn't quite reach his icy blue eyes.

"We have no idea who this replacement is! I've had no prior knowledge of this, and we've been focusing our training on Whittemore's style!" Deaton growled, slamming his hand against the wall.

"Scott has never been defeated in a fight once before. I'm completely confident that he'll do fine." Peter said finitely, walking out of the room and slamming the door closed behind him.

"What happened?" Scott stood up. He was already dressed in his shorts and was tightening his last glove around his wrist.

"Goddamn Hale." Deaton muttered. "He's just annoyed that you haven't been defeated in 15 fights. He just wants to put on a show for the crowd."

"So I'm not fighting Jackson."

"No, his replacement is named Isaac something." Deaton picked up his clipboard and flipped through it aimlessly. "Forget what we talked about. This Isaac character, if Peter's previous stunts is anything to go by, will fight nothing like Jackson. Be careful. Don't do anything stupid, and if you see a chance to end this, take it. I want a good clean fight out there."

Scott nodded, a knot tightening in his stomach.

 

The lights of the octagon were blinding. Isaac blinked his eyes several times as they adjusted to the light. They were so bright to prevent the fighters from wolfing out. They would burn the retinas of sensitive wolf eyes.

"Try to last 'til the second round, okay Lahey?" Finstock said before he jogged back to go check on Jackson, his star fighter. There wasn't an ounce of encouragement in his voice.

"Yes Coach." Isaac muttered as he stepped into the Octagon.

Scott McCall was still talking to his Coach, Deaton, who had Coached 5 Champions before being hired by Scott. Scott, who was built like a juggernaut and had the lightening speed of a cobra. Not to mention the tanned skin and rugged good looks. Isaac swallowed hard. He was already half hard from the adrenaline, and looking at Scott's naked back really wasn't helping diminish his problem. He let out a breath, snapping out of his thoughts just as the buzzer sounded, indicating the beginning of the first round. He blinked confusedly.  _Way to go, Lahey. You missed the announcement and the whole glove touching part. McCall probably thinks that you're a douche, like Jackson._ But the thought quickly left Isaac's head as he saw the blue blur of Scott's glove and ducked to avoid the nose breaking hit. 

Isaac danced away, taking a deep breath and keeping his focus on where Scott's weight was. Scott was well known for letting his guard down, or edging back just before he went in for the kill.

 

Lahey was cautious. Scott had to give him that. He really thought that his hand would make contact with Isaac's face, but his opponent ducked at the last minute. Lucky too. It would've been a shame if that face were ruined by blood and bruises, regardless of how quickly he healed. 

Isaac had a good few inches on Scott, and he was all long limbs and lean muscle. While his body screamed dedicated fighter, his dirty blond curls and wide blue eyes lent him a cherubic look that Scott was almost afraid to ruin with a punch. 

His opponent was now lingering by the sides of the Octagon, as far away from Scott as possible. His guard was down as he watched Scott move towards him. The crowd was booing, screaming for Isaac to take a swing at Scott. As soon as Scott got within punching distance of Isaac, he danced away again, bouncing lightly on the balls of his feet. 

Scott let out a soft growl of frustration as he took bigger steps towards Isaac, only to have the blonde move out of his reach yet again. Isaac looked at Scott, a small smile playing on his lips, like he was laughing at Scott. 

With a shout, Scott launched himself at Isaac, making to box his ears and ducking down at the last second as Isaac's arms went up to defend his head. Scott wrapped his arms around Isaac's knees and drove his shoulder into Isaac's hip. His opponent went down with a thud. Scott immediately send a punch to Isaac's solar plexus, making him gasp for breath, then punched Isaac's jaw a few times, and as Isaac's arms went up to protect his head, Scott wrenched Isaac so that he way lying on his back, and moved into full guard. 

 

Isaac's abs strained as he half lifted himself and Scott off the floor of the Octagon. He was writhing and twisting in an attempted to get out of the guard, but Scott just slammed his arm into Isaac's collarbone and pushed him back down. The breath was knocked out of Isaac as he hid the floor of the Octagon again, and Scott moved above him to get in a better position for the knockout. The Octagon floor was slippery with Isaac's blood, which was also running into the sides of his mouth. Scott's thigh brushed against Isaac's cock, which was steadily growing harder and harder, and there was no way that Scott couldn't feel it. Isaac whined softly, and suddenly, his hips jerked up, grinding his dick against Scott's. To the spectators, it just looked like another desperate attempt to get out of the guard, but Scott heard the whine, and Scott could feel Isaac's hardness pressing against his own growing erection. Scott looked down at Isaac, his brown eyes wide. 

Flushing out of embarassment, Isaac smiled sheepishly at Scott before surging upwards and slamming is forehead against Scott's. With a quick movement of his leg and hips, Isaac had reversed their position. Scott frantically wriggled out of the guard, brushing Isaac's clothed cock a few times, and struggled up to his feet. Scott was still looking at Isaac in shock with those puppy eyes of his, and with a slight twinge of regret, Isaac lunged forward, taking advantage of Scott's distraction, and slammed his fist into Scott's jaw.

Scott went down with a thud. Isaac could hear Finstock shouting in the background.

"Come one Lahey, finish him off!" Finstock yelled. 

Isaac moved to full guard and slammed his fists into Scott's face, cringing internally at the spurts of blood and the crunch of a breaking nose. 

The crowd was going insane, screaming and yelling and there were flashes as cameras went off and throughout the madness, as the ref held Isaac's hand up into the air to declare him winner, the first man to knock out Scott "The Alpha" Mccall, Isaac could faintly hear Finstock screaming in the background--

"The bigger they are, THE BIGGER THEY ARE!"

 


	2. Chapter 2

Isaac's shoulder was sore from recieving high fives and his cheeks ached from smiling. Sports journalists had crowded around him the moment he stepped out of the Octagon. Finstock had thrown a shoulder around Isaac and pulled him close, tousling his curls roughly.

"I knew he could do it," Finstock had said. "Didn't I tell you to have faith in yourself, Isaac? I said to him, right before he stepped into the Octagon, 'I believe in you, now get out there and kick some ass!' The moment I started training him, I knew that this boy would be something special. And everyone always said that it would take a special man to beat McCall, and here he is!"

Isaac just grinned and nodded, even though Finstock had refused to train him the first three times that Isaac asked, and even refused to see Isaac fight. He had just brushed Isaac aside to focus in Whittemore. 

It took a good thirty minutes and a distraction from his best friend, Erica, for Isaac to get away from the crowd. No matter how much she complained about her D-cups, they came in handy when a distraction was needed and she "accidentally" had a nip slip. It also helped that she was completely fearless and happened to be the infamous frontwoman for the rock band First Line.

The hallway leading to his changing room was completely deserted and Isaac shivered in the sudden cold. He raised a hand to rub his eyes and realized that he had dried blood all over his face. He must have looked like a deranged animal in the pictures that the tabloids took of him. Isaac was still rubbing his eyes when he opened the door to his changing room, so his shorts were already halfway off when he realized that Scott was sitting on a chair in the corner, his eyes wide.

"Hi."

 

"So you lost man." Stiles said, patting Scott on the shoulder. "You gotta lose at some point in your career. Besides, at least Lahey went easy on you. I've seen fights where the ref had to separate the two guys, even after one of them was knocked out."

"Yea." Scott muttered, flushing pink as he thought back to the way Isaac had rubbed up against him. MMA fighting was a very...physical sport, and not every guy in the business is straight, so yes, Scotts felt a few boners before, mostly from the adrenaline. But none of them had thrown him off his game like Isaac. Scott had no idea why he lost his head, and that very fact scared the shit out of him.

"Scott?" Stiles shook him.

"Yea. I'm listening." Scott looked up quickly at his best friend. 

"What did I just say?" Stiles demanded, crossing his arms like the drama queen that he was.

"Uh. That I shouldn't beat myself up about the loss?" Scott guessed. He probably wasn't far off. As a motivational life coach for the rich and famous, Stiles was always spewing encouraging epigrams like they could stop world hunger.

"Good guess, but no." Stiles smirked. "I was just commenting on how evidently visible your boner was from where I was sitting on the front row."

Scott jumped. "What?" He exclaimed, heat rising to the tips of his ears.

"Oh yea, your huge gay boner for this Isaac dude." Stiles smirked. "I think I heard a few girls whispering that you weren't as big as they expected."

Scott stared up at Stiles for a good five seconds before the joke sunk in. "What the fuck man?" Scott punched Stiles in the arm. 

Stiles backed away, cackling and rubbing his bruised arm. "Just a joke man." He paused, studying Scott's face. "Or not a joke. Whatever you like, Scotty. I'm hardly in a position to judge."

"Shut up." Scott muttered. "Just leave it, okay?"

"Sure, sure." Stiles held up his hands in surrender. "But you should go congradulate the guy, so there's no bad blood between you two."

"Don't know where his changing room is." 

"Lucky that I have such a great sense of direction, I know exactly where Isaac Lahey's changing room is." Stiles announced triumphantly, walking over to the door and throwing it open.

"Stiles." Scott said, furrowing his brow. "You once spent twenty minutes standing in the line for the bathroom because you thought that it was the line for pizza!" He exclaimed before following Stiles through the door.

"Hey, in my defense, I was completely shitfaced, and I had just smoked way too much hashish." Stiles said, turning completely to face Scott, walking backwards. Because of course, only Stiles felt the need to create a haphazard situation where he was just begging for an accident to happen. 

"The sad part is that  _you_ weren't on anything at all, and even when I left the bathroom line you kept insisting that it was the right line." Stiles said, breaking down into laughter while still walking backward. 

Scott opened his mouth to warn Stiles of the impending collision, but then decided against it. 

There was a fleshy thud and Stile's high pitched yelp as he collided with what felt like a brick wall and something wet and icy spilled down his back. 

"I'm really really really sorry." Stiles said, apologizing profusely even before he had turned around.

Scott slapped a hand to his mouth to keep himself from bursting out into laughter. Because that would be bad. Very very bad.

"Are you oka--" Stile's flow of speech, for once, slowed as he turned around and saw who he had bumped into. 6 feet of a very firm, very grumpy looking man, who was glaring at Stiles from underneath a pair of thick eyebrows. In his hand was a cup of water. Water that was now soaking through his very thin, very white shirt. 

"I--" Stiles stuttered as he stared at the display of muscular chest in front of him.

Grumpy looked down at his shirt, then glowered at Stiles even more. He shoved past Stiles and stalked down the hall. As soon as he turned the corner at the end of the hallway, Scott burst out into laughter, doubling over and pointing at a dazed looking Stiles.

"Dude!" Stiles exclaimed. " _Who was that?"_

"Derek Hale!" Scott choked out, wiping the tears from his eyes. 

"That guy...he's...he's...he's like sex on legs!" Stiles stammered, staring down the hallway like Derek was somehow still there.

"He's also the Assistant Director of WFC. He fights sometimes. You should see what he does to his opponents. He's kind of a dick too. Last time I was here, he made a PA cry inadvertantly by telling her that she was incompetant and should look for another line of work. You're lucky that he didn't say or do anything to you."

"Damn." Stiles shook his head, presumably to get the image of Derek's almost naked chest out of his mind. He started down the hallway again. "I seriously wanna tap that."

Scott rolled his eyes as they turned a corner and stopped in front of a door. 

"Here it is!" Stiles said with a flourish. "The changing room of Isaac "Giant Slayer" Lahey!"

"Giant slayer?" Scott raised an eyebrow. 

"You're the giant." Stiles explained, throwing open the door. There was no one inside. The room was spacy and filled with training equipment. The lighting was pretty bad though. 

"You sure that this is Isaac's dressing room? I don't want a repeat of the Greenberg incident." Scott stared at his friend skeptically.

Stiles laughed, stepping into the dressing room. "Man, that was a classic. But I'm pretty sure that this is Isaac's." He held up a monogrammed duffel bag with the letters IL stiched on in black. 

"He's not here." Scott said, standing at the threshold nervously. 

"Obviously." Stiles rolled his eyes. "Just stay here and wait. I have to go change out of this shirt. Have fun!" Stiles winked at Scott before backing out of the room.

Letting out a break, Scott sat down on a chair in the corner and rested his chin in his hand.

That's where he sat for twenty minutes, until Isaac walked into the room, facing away from Scott, and pulled down his shorts, reaching towards a bench, stopping when he realized that there weren't any clothes on it. He turned around, scanning the room for a pair of pants, and stopped when he saw Scott.

The thrumming of Scott's blood in his ear was so loud that he almost didn't hear Isaac awkwardly say hi.

"Uh. This isn't what it looks like. I was just here to congradulate you. You know. On...knocking me out." Scott said, laughing nervously.

Isaac smiled and stepped closer. The dim lighting threw shadows over his muscles, defining them even more. Isaac's cotton boxers suddenly looked tiny against the expanse of pale, smooth skin. The look in Isaac's eyes was almost predatory. Suddenly, Scott couldn't breath.

"You're on my pants." Isaac said hoarsely, gesturing at the chair.

"Huh? Oh right." Scott reached underneath his leg, never breaking eye contact with Isaac as he pulled out a pair of jeans and handed them to Isaac. 

"Thanks." Isaac pulled the pants on. "So what did you want to say to me?"

"That..." Scott squeezed his eyes shut for a second. "That you cheated."

The smile on Isaac's face faded. "Excuse me?"

"You cheated." Scott said. 

"I fought a clean fight!" Isaac argued. He paused, and the corners of his mouth curved up in a smirk. "Well, maybe it was kind of dirty. But I think that was as much your fault as it was mine."

"I don't swing that way." Scott protested.

"Could've fooled me." Isaac's grin was filthy. He stepped closer to Scott. 

"I'm not gay." Scott whispered. Isaac's proximity was doing nothing to help his cause. He took a step back but Isaac followed, and a few steps later, Scott felt his back hit the wall.

"Me neither." 

"Then...what...?" Scott frowned, confused. 

"I don't know man. I don't really care about the sex of the person. Just the quality of the sex." Isaac's fingers trailed over Scott's abdomen. 

"I'm not gay." Scott repeated, more weakly this time.

"Your rock hard cock tells a different story." Isaac breathed, his breath ghosting over Scott's lips as he cupped Scott's dick, which was indeed rock hard. 

Scott breathed out hard, but it came out as a soft moan. 

Isaac grinned and squeezed Scott's erection. 

"God. Isaac." Scott moaned, the back of his head thudding against the plaster of the wall. 

There was a soft, warm press of lips against Scott's exposed neck and he gasped, a jolt of arousal shooting down to his dick with every movement of Isaac's lips. He felt something hard against his hip as Isaac pressed him into the wall, and it took him a second to realize that that was Isaac's own straining erection. 

Scott moaned as Isaac sealed his lips over his pulse and sucked hard, grinding his clothed dick against Scott's hip. 

"Shit." Scott breathed. It all felt so good, Isaac's hot, wet mouth against his neck, Isaac's grip on his dick and the hard press of Isaac's body against his own. 

Isaac moaned in return as he ground against Scott harder, and there was a sudden sharp prick against Scott's neck as Isaac's fangs slid out. As good as the bite felt, the pain of it was enough to yank Scott out of his sex haze. 

"No, no." He shoved Isaac off him and pulled the door open, stumbling out. His skin felt tight and hot. Scott didn't think he had ever been this turned on in his entire life. Every time he closed his eyes, he could see Isaac's face, pupils blown wide from lust and bottom lip caught between his teeth. Whatever his blue eyes and blonder curls implied, Isaac Lahey was most certainly not innocent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I had alot of fun writing the bromance between Scott and Stiles, it just came and flowed so smoothly! but yea I promise that future updates are going to be longer and more substantial. I didn't mean for there t be any smut in this it just came out!!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story has actually taken a mind of it's own. I sat down with no idea what I was going to write and churned this out. I hope its not too bad. But yea...enjoy?

"You did what?" Erica cackled, slapping her hand over her red lips. "Come on Isaac!"

"I don't know what I was thinking." Isaac massaged the bridge of his nose and let out a long sigh. It had been a long day, and he was third wheeling on his couch with Erica, her boyfriend/bodyguard Boyd and a bottle of wolfsbane absinthe that was cradled in Erica's arm.

"It worked, didn't it?" Erica smirked, leaning back into Boyd, who automatically wrapped an arm around her. "I mean, for a while. Then he stormed out and left you holding your dick."

Isaac leveled Erica a dark glare and bared his fangs, but she just rolled her eyes.

"He'll get over it. I remember when you were in your confused state. So adorable." She reached over and bopped Isaac on the nose. "You were running around my apartment in a panic. 'I just hooked up with a guy Erica! I just hooked up with a guy!'" Erica mimed Isaac's panicked expression then dissolved into giggles and snuggled back into Boyd. 

"Alright, I think you've had enough to drink." Isaac reached out for the bottle, but Erica hugged it close to her chest. 

"No! We're friends!" Erica protested, her words slurring together a bit.

"Yes, Erica, we're fri--You're talking about the bottle, aren't you?" Isaac looked at Erica and reached for the bottle again. She slapped his hand and squealed. 

"We're all friends!" Erica giggled. "Hey! No sex for you tonight!" She protested as Boyd silently reached over her and plucked the bottle from her arms. He took a long swig then handed it over to Isaac. 

"You both suck." Erica said with a pout. "Alcohol is fun."

"You're a mess." Isaac unscrewed the bottle and took a swallow of the clear liquid, making a face at the burn in his throat. There was only a few inches left in the bottle "We were supposed to save this for a rainy day. This shit's hard to get."

"I'm a hot mess." Erica slurred, a few seconds too late.

"You're the one who pulled out the bottle." Boyd pointed out, holding out his hand for the bottle. Isaac handed it over to Boyd, who emptied the bottle in one long swallow. "And now we're all out."

"Actually, we still have a whole cabinet of alcohol." Erica said, gesturing to the kitchen cabinets. 

"No." Boyd said firmly. "No one's drinking anymore. I can only handle one drunk drama queen right now. If Isaac has any more to drink, he'll be bitching more about Scott than he is now."

"Wow, Boyd." Isaac applauded sarcastically. "That's the longest sentence you've said today."

Boyd and Erica were probably the most well paired couple that Isaac ever set his eyes on. Quiet, steady, non-judgemental Boyd was the perfect anchor for Erica, who was a diagnosed bipolar and liked to indulge in copious drinking and various soft drugs. Ever since she started dating Boyd, Erica had appeared on less and less tabloid covers with her clothes off. Of course, it had only helped boost her career, but Erica always felt shitty afterwards.

"Fuck you." Boyd glared at Isaac, then looked at Erica, who was starting to get a bit too friendly with him for Isaac's comfort. Her hand, which had previously been up Boyd's shirt, had crept down his pants. Isaac looked away and cursed his wolfy senses. He could smell the lust on Erica. 

"Can you..." Isaac gestured at Erica vaguely. 

"Yea I'll get her upstairs, no worries." Boyd tugged Erica up, her hand still in his pants, and lifted her in one smooth motion, causing her to dissolve in giggles. He carried her up the stairs, leaving Isaac alone on the couch. 

"It's just you and me." Isaac picked up the empty bottle and stared at it for a moment before chucking it into the trashcan across the room.

He closed his eyes and settled back on the couch, too drowsy and comfortable to move up to his bedroom. His body was burning up from the alcohol, among other things, and an image of Scott suddenly flashed behind his closed eyes. Scott's head, tipped back in pleasure. Scott's naked back. Scott's breathy moans. 

Isaac let out a moan of his own and as the heat intensified, the pressure in his lower abdomen increased. His hand trailed down his stomach and crept into the waistband of his sweat pants. Scott's moans were echoing in his mind as Isaac's hand closed around his cock.

 

Scott shot up in bed, his eyes eyes wide and frantic as a burning heat enveloped his skin. 

"Shit." He breathed, scrambling out of bed and throwing open the window, even though he knew that the cold air would do nothing to sooth the inferno. He needed something else.

"Stiles!" He yelled, subconsciously pressing himself against the wall and grinding against the cold plaster. 

"What?" Stiles burst into the room, wild eyed and armed with a baseball bat. 

"Put the bat down." Scott gasped, his eyes fluttering shut as he hips began to thrust against the wall. "I'm in heat."

"What the hell?" Stiles threw the bat down with a clunk. "Your last heat was two weeks ago."

"I dont fucking know." Scott moaned, reaching down into his pants and jerking himself off brutally. "I just...uhhh."

"Alright. Alright. I'll get your heat pills." Stiles began to rummage in Scott's nightstand.

"No, no no. They won't work now. It's too late." Scott let out a choked moan as he thrust into his hand a few times and came. "I should be good for the next few minutes."

"What the hell are you supposed to do? It's been a few years since you've had an unsuppressed heat. The last time I saw you like this, you tried to have sex with my dog!"

"Shit. Stiles." Scott breathed out as he felt himself harden again. "Do something!"

"I'm not jerking you off!" Stiles held up his hands. "No!"

"No, not that. Just fucking do something!" Scott panted as he collapsed onto the floor and began to fuck the rough carpeting.

"This is so fucking uncomfortable." Stiles ran his hand through his hair and ran out. He came back a few minutes later, and hauled Scott off the floor, frowning at the sticky patch on the carpet. Stiles dragged Scott off the floor and into the bathroom, where the tub was full of water, with huge chunks of ice floating in it. 

"Stiles. Stiles." Scott said frantically, his eyes wide and panicked when he saw the icy water. "No!" He yelled as his best friend shoved him into the tub. Scott howled and his eyes turned completely gold as he was submerged in the freezing water. He began to thrash around in the water, but it was already absorbing the heat from his body as the ice cubes started to melt rapidly.

"Better?" Stiles asked, wiping the water off of his face. 

"Yea." Scott nodded, sinking deeper into the water. He could already feel the temperature of the water going up slightly as the heat around him cooled.

"I'm gonna go get more ice." Stiles sighed as he stuck his hand into the now lukewarm water. 

* * *

The beam of sunlight streaming in from his window woke Scott up. He was lying in hot water and Stiles was curled up on the floor, fast asleep. Scott had drifted in and out of sleep as Stiles dumped gallons and gallons of ice into the bathtub, finally drifting off at four in the morning. 

Scott groaned as he felt the heat intensify. He climbed out of the bathtub quietly, pulling off his soaked clothes. He grabbed a towel and dried himself off as he walked into his room. He randomly pulled on a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt, stopping every few seconds to breathe deeply and supress the urge to fall back on the bed and masturbate until he was covered in sperm. 

He was out the door in five minutes and hailed the first cab he saw. 

"WFC Headquarters." He said to the cabbie, barely managing to control the shakiness of his voice. 

"Where's that?" The cabbie grunted at him.

"60th and 5th." Scott said as his head fell against the cold window pane and he discreetly pressed the heel of his hand to the front of his pants. 

It seemed like an eternity to Scott before the cabbie pulled up in front of the gray building. Without even looking at the meter, Scott pulled out two twenty dollar bills and tossed them into the front seat. "Keep the change."

Scott caught his reflection in the mirrored elevator walls on his way up to the tenth floor of the building, where Peter Hale's office was. His skin was flushed and he was panting. His pupils were blown so wide that his eyes looked black. Every few seconds, his eyes would flash gold. 

"Scott. What a lovely surprise." Peter said, looking up from his cappucino as Scott burst into his office. 

"I need Isaac's address." Scott demanded.

"Why?" 

"I need to settle a score with him." Scott breathed out, hoping that Peter wouldn't pick up in the signs that he was in heat and guess what Scott was really going over there to do. 

Peter's smile grew. "Scott, you know that I'm not allowed to give out the personal information of our fighters." He paused to finish his cappucino and wiped his mouth. "I'm going to get a glass of water. I'm not legally accountable for whatever happens in here while I'm gone." He winked at Scott before getting up. 

Scott rolled his eyes. Of course, if he beat up Isaac, the press and fans would be going crazy, and Peter would have all the more to gain from organizing a second fight. 

As soon as Peter left his office, Scott jumped behind his desk and began typing on his computer. Isaac's address popped up after a few seconds of loading. It was a place in Soho, on Thompson Street. Scott scribbled the address down on the inside of his arm and was about to leave when Peter's phone rang. Stile's caller ID popped up on the screen and Scott found himself picking up before he could even process the thought.

"Peter, is Scott there? If he is, keep him there and don't let him do anything stupid, he's in heat!" Stiles said breathlessly. Scott could hear the noises of traffic in the background. He hung up immediately and ran out of Peter's office.

 

Isaac's apartment turned out to be the penthouse. Scott knocked on the door, and pressed the doorbell and the intercom button within the first few seconds of arriving at Isaac's front door.

"Yea?" Isaac's voice sounded over the intercom. His voice sounded strained and breathy.

"It's Scott."

There was a long pause. The a soft clicking noise as Isaac buzzed him in.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i should really take the slow build tag off...leave your comments please! Sorry for the typos.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So i lied. this is not longer than the last one...but enjoy!

Not for the first time since he bought the place, Isaac was glad that the walls in his apartment were completely soundproof as a precaution against nosy werewolf ears. Erica and Boyd were still upstairs, probably tired from their all night sex marathon.

He had fallen asleep on his couch after a long jerkoff session that consisted of moaning Scott's name and desperate, thrusts against his couch. Isaac woke up incredibly horny and confused as to why when the doorbell rang. Slapping his hand around the coffee table for the wireless intercom. 

"Yea?" He groaned into the speaker.

"It's Scott." Even Scott's voice over the intercom made Isaac hard. He lifted his finger from the button to let out a shaky breath and then pressed another button to buzz him in. Seconds after he heard his front door open, Isaac realized that he still his shirt was covered in cum and he quickly tugged off his shirt and hurled it across the room just as Scott walked through the foyer. 

"Hey." Isaac leaned back and pulled a quilt over himself, subtly placing his hands over his crotch, willing his dick to not get hard. 

Scott didn't say anything. His skin was flushed and he was breathing hard, as if he had run all the way here. Isaac frowned. 

"You okay?" He asked, concerned. 

Silence. Scott just walked closer, and then it hit Isaac. The scent of desperation and lust and _Scott._ He felt heat rise from the pit of his stomach all the way up to the tips of his ears. Scott was in heat. And he chose to come to Isaac. 

"Fuck." Isaac groaned. "You're in heat."

Scott just responded with a breathy moan, and now Isaac could see the outline of Scott's erection straining against his jeans. 

The pulses of heat moving throughout Isaac's body in waves intensified and he started to breathe hard, feeling his dick fill with blood. Shit. Scott was making his heat set in early. 

"I can smell it." Scott said hoarsely, reaching out to run his hands over Isaac's bare torso.

"What?" Isaac asked shakily, the feeling of Scott fingers running over his nipples running all the way down to his dick. 

"Your cum. You. Everywhere." Scott nosed his way down Isaac's neck, breathing in deeply, then out of nowhere, Scott's teeth close around Isaac's collarbone and both down possessively. Isaac moaned loudly, then bit his lip. "Fuck."

Scott moved on top of Isaac, pulling off his sweatshirt and pressing his bare chest against Isaac's as he sucked purple marks into Isaac's chest and neck. Isaac couldn't stop himself from moaning and arching his body off the couch to press into Scott. 

"I thought about doing this all night." Scott growled, kissing a path down Isaac's chest. "You're so fucking hot. I just want to fuck you into my mattress and watch you writh and beg until I let you cum."

Isaac groaned and his hips thrust up against Scott of their own accord. "Do it." He panted. "Fuck me, Scott."

Scott looked up and grinned wickedly before pulling down Isaac's boxers and swallowing his entire length. The sound that came out of Isaac's throat probably wasn't audible to even werewolves. It wasn't the most skilled blowjob ever, and Scott caught Isaac a few times with his teeth, but at this point, Isaac couldn't care less. What Scott lacked in technique he made up for with some serious enthusiasm. Isaac tried his hardest to keep from thrusting into the wet heat of Scott's mouth, but he couldn't and when Scott moaned encouragingly, Isaac twisted his fingers into Scott's hair and started to fuck his mouth.

"Fuck," He grunted, his eyes squeezing shut. "Fuck Scott, your mouth. So fucking good. Uhhhnn." Isaac bit his lip. "Fuck I'm gonna cum. You're gonna make me cum." With a strangled cry, Isaac's hips stuttered a few times before he emptied his load down Scott's throat. 

As Isaac caught his breath, Scott crawled up Isaac's body and straddled his chest. "My turn." He said hoarsely. He moved his hips forward until the head of his cock touched Isaac's lips.

Isaac let out a shaky breath and Scott gasped as he felt Isaac's hot breath ghost over his cock. Isaac licked around Scott's cockhead then, placing his hands on Scott's hips, pulled him closer so that Isaac could wrap his mouth around the length of Scott's erection. 

"Mmmm." It took all of Scott's self control to pull out and line himself up with Isaac's hole. "Wanna fuck you. Can I?"

"No lube." Isaac gasped. And Scott nodded in understanding, ready to get off by humping Isaac into the mattress. He moved back slightly, only to be stopped by Isaac's hand on his arm. "Just...go slow."

Scott nodded, spitting into his hand and slicking up his already slick cock. He coated a finger with saliva and slowly pushed it into Isaac, who moaned and immediately pushed his hips against Scott's hand. He was tight, but loosened up quickly, and soon Scott was slipping in two more fingers.

Isaac was moaning without abandon, his head thrown back and he was basically fucking himself on Scott's fingers. When Scott brushed against his prostate, he let out a shout. "Just fuck me already!"

There was a gasp from the staircase. "OH MY GOD!" 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i really think that the sexual tension tag should be changed to sexual frustration  
> sorry for whatever typos, if anyone wants to beta, just lmk


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year! Again, I apologize for any grammatical or spelling errors.

Erica stood at the bottom of the staircase, her smirk fading as she sniffed the air. "Holy fucking shit, you're both in heat." She yanked at Boyd's arm. "Get him off Isaac now!"

Scott had already frantically thrust against Isaac's raised hips, a desperate grab for release. He managed a few frenzied thrusts into Isaac's warm heat, his moans turning into broken growls, before Boyd crossed the room and yanked Scott off of Isaac, who made a strangled noise at the lack of contact, pushing his hips up into the air.

Erica swooped in, grabbing Isaac before he could launch himself off the couch at Boyd. 

"I, listen to me," She held Isaac's face between her hands, staring into his eyes intently. "If you do this now, you'll regret it." 

Isaac was still for a second, before trying to shove Erica aside. She grabbed his wrists and pinned them together, wrapping an arm around his waist and dragging him into a nearby room and slamming the door shut. Isaac may have been a MMA fighter, but with the burning heat enveloping his body and the desperate need for Scott, he might as well have been a little kid with a Nerf gun. Isaac could hear the sounds of Boyd struggling to restrain Scott. 

"Fuck." Isaac gritted. "Erica I'm in heat." His hand closed around his cock of his own accord and started yanking at his dick brutally hard.

"No shit, Sherlock." Erica reached into the nightstand and pulled out a pair of pink handcuffs. She cuffed Isaac's right arm to the iron headboard. "I'm leaving you one hand free." She said when Isaac growled.

Erica slipped out of the room, locking the door behind her with a click.

Boyd was on the ground, looking extremely uncomfortable as he tried to restrain Scott, who was simultaneous slamming his fist into Boyd's face and grinding his cock against Boyd's hip.

For a few seconds, Erica just leaned against the wall, observing the scene in front of her amusedly. Her priority as Isaac, and now that he was safely locked away in the guest room, she found the entire situation to be wildly entertaining. 

"Do something!" Boyd gritted out between clenched teeth as Scott began to writhe out from underneath him. Erica sighed and grabbed a vase from a nearby table. She slammed it into the back of Scott's head, shattering the vase and dropping Scott like a ton of bricks. 

"Ok." Boyd said, panting. "What do we do with this one?" 

Erica shrugged. "Well, we can't throw him down the garbage disposal, it's incinerator day." 

There was a long pause before Boyd said, "The roof?"

Erica nodded in approval. "It's cold, so it'll be harder for him to shift."

With a heave, Boyd lifted Scott fireman style and walked out the door. 

* * *

The first thing that Scott noticed when he came to was the freezing cold gusts of wind that buffeted his body, cooling the waves of heated lust that had been engulfing his body. He let out a soft groan of pain. There was a dull ache in the back of his head. Scott opened one eye to see Erica bundled in a long coat, studying him with a neutral look on her face. Boyd was nowhere in sight. The second thing that Scott noticed was that his arms were stretched out to the side and handcuffed to the railing.

"What the fuck?" He yanked at the handcuffs, but all he got was cold metal digging into the skin of his wrists. 

"So I just walked in on you trying to fuck my best friend," Erica said musedly. "Only one day after you so insistantly proclaimed your heterosexuality."

Scott grunted in response, trying to pull his arms out of the handcuffs. 

Erica's eyes narrowed. She leaned in close. "It seems like you're having a bit of an identity crisis. It's very common, considering that you're only 22. But Isaac's been through a whole lot of shit, and you using him as a sexuality experiment somehow doesn't seem too good for him." Her amber eyes were fixed onto Scott's with a dead seriousness. "So I'm going to give you your clothes, and you're going to stay away from Isaac until you figure your shit out." 

"No." Scott growled possessively. He felt his eyes go gold and his teeth extend until their sharp tips grazed his lips. 

"It's not up to you!" Erica snapped, digging her claws into Scott's chest. "This is what's best for Isaac." She reached into her pocket and pulled out a few small white triangular pills.

"What are those?" Scott asked. He had read articles and interviews featuring Erica Reyes, the wild child lead singer of First Line. He wouldn't put it below her to drug him.

"They're hormonal pills. They'll dampen down your heat so you don't feel like humping everything in sight." Erica pushed the pills past Scott's lips one by one. They tasted bitter, and had a hint of licorice.

"Did you give these to Isaac?" Scott asked after he had dry swallowed the pills. He already felt the heat begin to subside, leaving him feeling cold and exposed in the winter wind.

Erica paused for a millisecond. "Yes." She tossed a bundle of clothes at Scott's head and uncuffed him from the railing. By now, Scott no longer felt his heat at all, just the heat that rose to his cheeks when he realized what he just did in the living room downstairs. 

"Now it's time for you to leave." Erica pointed Scott to another door across the roof. "That'll take you straight downstairs, no need to go through Isaac's apartment." 

Scott nodded and was turning the knob of the door when he heard Erica say, "Remember what I said, Scott." He managed a nod before the door slammed shut behind him.

Erica stood on the roof for a while, staring out at the city, letting the gusts of wind turn her cheeks pink. After a while, Boyd's arms snaked around Erica's waist, pulling her tight against his firm chest. 

"Was that the best idea?" Boyd leaned down to whisper in his girlfriends ear before kissing her on the cheek.

It was a while before Erica responded. "He'll get over it."

* * *

"Wait. Erica as in Crazy Erica? The one from First Line?" Stiles asked in disbelief. 

"Yeah, the crazy one." Scott said. He had gone straight to Stiles's house from Isaac's and now they were sprawled on Stile's couch, watching reruns of Freaks and Geeks. "She dragged me up to the freezing cold roof and handcuffed me."

"She's hot. Kinky." Stiles snickered, throwing Scott a teasing look. 

"Then she fed me some hormonal pills and told me to stay away from Isaac 'til I solve my 'identity crisis'". Scott rolled his eyes.

"To be fair, you did try to have sex with him on his couch, after you've known him for two days and adamantly insisting that you're straight." Stiles pointed out. "Are you going to stay away from Isaac?"

"Ugh." Scott pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes. "I don't know man. I'm still confused. How did you find out that you're bi?"

Stiles shrugged. "I always kind of noticed boys and girls, ever since I was younger. I didn't know that it was being bisexual, I kinda just thought that it was completely normal. It was something that I never questioned until our first health class. Then Danny came out and I wasn't sure whether I shou--." Stiles stopped abruptly. "You said that Erica gave you pills? For what?" 

"To stop my heat."

There was a long pause. "Were they small and white?"

"Stiles, almost every pill is small and white. Although, I'm not feeling too good right now." Scott rubbed his eyes. "I feel kind of dizzy and nauseated." He shivered as a chill ran through him. 

"Shit." Stiles ran a hand through his hair. "Were they triangular and did they taste a bit like anise?"

"Uhm...they were triangular and tasted like licorice." Scott replied, leaning his head against a pillow and closing his eyes.

"Scott!" Stiles shook him. "I've read about those pills, man. They haven't been approved by the FDA and they've only gone through a few stages of testing. They're dangerous. I don't know how Erica got those, but they're not supposed to be available to the public. The last guy I knew who had those pills was the grandson of the CEO of that company. In trials, they made 70% of the subjects sick, probably because it's main component is a mild form of wolfsbane."

Scott froze, another chill running through him. Then, without a warning, he vomited black bile all over the carpet. 

"Great." Stiles sighed. "I'll call Deaton."

* * *

"Erica," Isaac asked slowly. "Why are there fuzzy pink handcuffs in my guest bedroom?"

Erica looked up from her phone. She had come in with a glass of water and a few pills to stop Isaac's heat, along with a little vial of clear liquid. "It'll keep you from getting sick." She had said. 

"Hm? Oh, the last time I finished a tour, Boyd was there and your apartment is much closer to Hale Stadium than ours, so...we crashed here while you were on a business trip." 

Isaac cringed. "You used my apartment as your personal sex hotel."

"Oh Isaac, when you put it like that, it sounds so crude." Erica smirked. "I'd like to say that we brought love into your home."

"As long as you got it off my sheets." Isaac muttered. "Alright, you can uncuff me. My heats mostly gone and I need to go wash all this cum off of myself before it dries."

Wrinkling her nose, Erica reached over and unlocked the handcuffs with a click. 

"What happened with Scott?" He asked, rubbing his wrists. 

"I gave him the pills and sent him on his merry way." Erica said vaguely, looking back down at her phone.

Isaac tried his best to ignore the litle twinge in his chest when he realized that Scott hadn't even stopped to say goodbye. "He uh, didn't say anything about me, did he?"

"Nope." Erica replied. She looked up again, and this time, there was genuine concern in her eyes. "Look, I, I know guys like Scott. I've screwed guys like Scott. They're all the same, and you just have to put him out of your mind. If he turns out to be different, he'll find you." Then she added with a wide smile. "Besides, I think that as the new WFC Lightweight Champion, you're going to have a lot more preoccupations." 

"Yeah." Isaac said flatly. "If you say so."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any suggestions for what you want to happen next? I have kind of a loose idea in mind but I really want to hear what you guys think!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I tried to explore the scott/stiles dynamic as much as the plot would let me. Enjoy and i apologize for typos!

"Doesn't being sick beat wanting to impregnate anything in sight?" Stiles joked as he handed Scott an infusion of herbs that Deaton had gave him. The doctor/coach had taken one look at Scott yesterday and the bile splattered all over the floor and put him straight to bed, giving him a couple of injections to counteract the wolfsbane.

"Shut up." Scott grunted, making a face as he swallowed down the bitter, earthy mixture. Not for the first time, he was amazed that Stiles put up with the constant injury that came with Scott being a werewolf MMA fighter who had a knack for running into trouble. Strangely, this wasn't the first time he had ingested a large amount of wolfsbane. A year ago, a challenger in an upcoming fight had dosed Scott's oatmeal with wolfsbane, hoping to make him too ill to fight. 

"I can't believe that she poisoned you! That is some messed up shit. Like, I'm pretty sure that you could probably get her arrested. Does this count as attempted murder or manslaughter? If you die, your family can sue, right?" 

"I doubt that sueing would do my situation any good." Scott grimaced as he swallowed the last thick dregs of the mixture.

"It's been a while since you've liked anyone. Since Allison." Stiles said gently. Scott stiffened at the name. "So yeah, I get why this would scare you. You know, besides the whole gay thing. And I'm pretty sure that Allison was crazier than Erica. I mean for God's sake, she brought a bow into bed. If that doesn't scream mental instability, I don't know what does. For all you know, she could've been trying to shoot your dick off with that thing." 

Scott cringed and handed the empty glass to Stiles. 

"I'm done with Allison." He said. Scott didn't want to think about how he had fallen helplessly under her spell, how she had toyed with his emotions, and how he had walked into her apartment with a ring tucked into his jacket pocket, only to stop short at the sight of some random guy violently thrusting into his girlfriend. How Allison had shattered his heart into methaphorical shards and stomped on them until it was just a pile of metaphorical dust.

"Scott, man, it's okay for you to like guys. Everyone you're close to loves you and they wouldn't give a damn who you liked as long as you're happy." Stiles gripped the glass and turned to leave.

"Yeah." Scott said softly. "I know." He closed his eyes as Stiles slipped out of the room, and within a matter of seconds, he had drifted off into sleep. 

* * *

Isaac ducked into the safety of his building just as the wave of reporters reached him. "No comments!" He cried as he slammed the lobby door shut behind him. He stomped his feet a couple of times to get the snow off the tip of his boots, and stepped into the elevator as the doors slid open. 

Erica was lounging on his sofa, watching TV. She had an unlit cigarette dangling from her mouth. 

"Hey." She greeted without taking her eyes off the screen. Erica was at Isaac's apartment a good 80% of her time. The papparazzi were always camped out near her apartment in TriBeCa, even though she was rarely seen there. She had even decorated one of Isaac's guest bedrooms to her taste. 

"Those fucking reporters." Isaac grumbled as he slumped down on the couch next to her. Erica was watching some neo-noir TV show, and currently, the main character was getting beat up by a mobster in a slick suit. He reached over and snagged the cigarette from Erica's mouth and lit it, taking a deep drag and blowing smoke rings out of his mouth.

"What happened to no smoking in your apartment?" 

"Rough day." Isaac pulled a crystal ashtray over to his side of the table and flicked the end of the cigarette to ash it. 

"It's noon." Erica frowned. "You have an entire day ahead of you. Ooooh, we should go out tonight!" Her face lit up. 

"I don't know," Isaac ashed his cigarette again. "I don't really feel up to clubbing tonight."

"No, no." Erica waved her hands. "Look, my mom gave me one of the family boats to stay out of the tabloids and it's just parked there by the pier, rusting away." Erica was the black sheep in her family. While the rest of her relatives were raking in money on Wall Street, she had rebelled at a young age and became a rock star, to the chagrin of her mother. "She's still trying to get me to go to law school." Erica rolled her eyes.

"Do you even know how to captain a boat?" Isaac asked skeptically. "I'm pretty sure that you need a license to drive a boat."

"Autopilot, bitch. Plus, I've already stocked it with alcohol, weed, cigarettes, condoms. Everything you could need. We'll have a party! We haven't had a chance to celebrate your knockout." 

"Food?" Isaac raised an eyebrow and looked down at his cigarette, which was burning dangerously close to the filter.

"Oh yea. Right. Food. I'll call my assistant right now." Erica whipped out her phone and pressed a few buttons. 

"Kelly." She barked intoo the phone, her voice turning icy cold. "I need you to go get me a chef and bring him down to my boat. And supply him with all the stuff that he needs, we're throwing a party tonight. Send a mass text to all the people that I can tolerate." She hung up before Kelly could even reply. Isaac felt a twinge of sympathy for the girl. If it had been anyone but Erica, planning a party the same day would have been impossible. But this was Erica, and she had more connections than the human brain.

"Do you really need to be that harsh on her?" Isaac ground the glowing tip of the cigarette butt into the ashtray and reached for another cigarette.

"Please." Erica scoffed. "She could be getting way worse." 

"I think I should go see Scott," Isaac started. "Just to--"

"No!" Erica burst out. "No. Just...no. He's not good for you, I. If he was, then he would come to you." 

"I just want to clear up what happened yesterday!" Isaac protested. 

"Nope." Erica said. "I know you, you're weak. The moment you're there, you'll cave and do something stupid." 

"Erica!" 

"Oh, stop whining." Erica plucked the cigarette out of Isaac's hand and took a drag. 

* * *

Erica's "boat" turned out to be more like a yacht. She had spent the entire day dragging Isaac across the city, making preparations for the party. Somehow, Erica managed to make the deck of the yacht a warm seventy degrees despite the winter cold. "Don't ask." Erica had said with a sly smirk as she speed dialed her witch friend. 

"100 feet of pure party nirvana." Erica spread her arms out. She was wearing a gorgeous wine colored dress with black beading that hugged her curves and spiky heels that made her legs go on forever. "I think that we could all use this." Erica held up a bottle of champagne. "I've got entire crates of this on board." She laughed gleefully as she walked up the walkway and onto the boat. "Plus, at 2 am, we're dropping all the downers and sailing twelve miles out into international waters, and then we can really break out the fun stuff."

"Erica, where's Boyd?" Isaac asked as he followed his best friend onto the boat. He tugged at the sports jacket that Erica had forced him into. 

"Oh, just...somewhere." Erica waved her hand and walked across the deck to the bar. She poured two shots of wolfsbane vodka and slid one over to Isaac. When he just stared at the shot glass, Erica shrugged and pounded both shots. Isaac stared at her suspiciously for a long time, and finally, she cracked. "I can't stand Boyd breathing over my shoulder all the time! I know that his job is to make sure that no crazy fans sneak into my dressing room and that I don't get shitfaced and jump off a building, but sometimes, I just want him to be my boyfriend, not my bodyguard." She sighed and poured herself another shot. "He's at his mother's."

"Have you told him?" Isaac poured himself a shot and tossed his head back, grimacing at the burn in his throat. 

"No." Erica sighed and reached for the vodka, but Isaac pulled it towards him. 

"Nope. You've already had three shots. You can have more later, you know, when the people actually start getting here." Isaac screwed the cap back onto the bottle and placed it back into the cabinet. 

"Oh, if you don't mind, I invited a few people from WFC." Erica pulled out her phone to check a text. "Excellent! I got Kali to DJ, and she's five minutes away. This is going to be great." She spun away, laughing. It was a wonder that she hadn't fallen over in her sky high heels.

"Jesus." Isaac sighed and took another swallow from the bottle. 

 

"About time you got here!" Erica giggled, draping herself over her boyfriend the moment he stepped on the boat. The deck was filled with people writhing to the beat of house music played from a platform at the head of the ship. 

"Are you drunk?" Boyd steadied Erica as her ankles began to wobble. He led her over to the bar and leaned her against it. 

"Come on babe," Erica trailed a finger down Boyd's chest and leaned her head closer to kiss his neck. "Be my boyfriend tonight. Just my boyfriend."

Boyd was silent for a few seconds before he said, "Alright," and poured himself a shot.

"Whooooo!" Erica cheered as she started to dance. 

"What is this party for?" Boyd asked as he swallowed his second shot.

"Isaac!" Erica shouted over the crowd. "He's the new WFC Lightweight Champion. Oh, speaking of." She unhooked her arms from Boyd and stumbled over to the platform. She whispered in Kali's ear and the music stopped. Gradually, the crowd stopped dancing and fell silent. Kali handed Erica a microphone. 

"So, I don't know if you know why you're here." Erica started, slurring her words a bit. "I sure as hell didn't until an hour before the party started." The crowd laughed. "Anyways, as anyone who's ever read a sports magazine, you all know that my friend Isaac Lahey is now the WFC Lightweight Champion!" She clapped her hands dramatically, and three waiters rolled tables of champagne glasses onto the deck. "Everyone grab a glass of champagne." Erica took a glass of her own. "Let's all toast to Isaac, may he keep the title until the end of his career! To Isaac!" 

* * *

**A few hours earlier**

"So Scotty, how you feeling?" Stiles asked, scrolling through his phone. He handed Scott a glass of water and watched eagerly as Scott drank it.

"Why?" Scott put the glass down and dragged the back of his hand across his mouth.

"Well," Stiles started gleefully. "Danny just told me about a party on a yacht. He managed to get us on the list." Danny and Stiles had always had a strange relationship, full of sexual tension and blurry multiple night stands. 

"A yacht? Doesn't that seem a bit stuffy?" Scott asked skeptically. The last thing he wanted to do was be around a group of rich aristocrats with boards up their asses. 

"Apparently, the host is a wild child with expensive taste."

"Who is the host anyways?" Scott rolled out of bed and pulled on a sweatshirt.

"Some rock star. Who cares, man? It's a freaking yacht, and half the people we know are going." 

"I dont know...I'm not sure if I'm up for a party right now." Scott had spent all of yesterday and the entirety of today thinking about Isaac and ended up looking up his fight videos on the internet.

Stiles sighed and threw an arm around Scott. "You just lost a world title, Scotty. There's gotta be some part of you that wants to get shattered and hook up with random people. You're twenty two for God's sake!" 

"Alright. Fine. We'll go." Scott acquiesced as Stiles cheered. 

 

The deck of the yacht was filled with people dancing and all the seats were either occupied by people eating sushi or making out. 

"Stiles!" A voice cried. Danny walked up to them and threw his arm around both their shoulders. His tie was undone and hanging from his neck, and one too many buttons were undone on his shirt. Scott didn't need wolf senses to tell that Danny was drunk off his ass. "Finally!" He shoved a shot glass into each of their hands. 

"Hey Danny!" Stiles shouted over the noise of the bass. He tossed back the shot. "So who's throwing this thing?"

Danny shouted a name, but it was lost in the noise of the crowd.

"What?" Stiles yelled. "I can't hear you!" Danny said the name again, but he voice couldn't be hear over the noise. Stiles shook his head and pointed to his ear. Danny shook his head and led Stiles away by his elbow. 

"Scott, just have some fun!" Stiles shouted back at his best friend before he disappeared into the crowd, leaving Scott standing by himself, holding an empty shot glass. 

Then, the music stopped and a blonde in a lowcut dress staggered on stage, clearly drunk. "Let's all toast to Isaac, may he keep the title until the end of his career! To Isaac!" Erica said into the microphone. She raised a glass. 

Shit. Scott stared up at the platform. Just his fucking luck that he was at Erica's party. Isaac was probably there. Isaac, who Scott was supposed to be staying away from. 

"Screw this." Scott muttered to himself, weaving his way through the crowd of bodies and to the bar. "Give me five shots of wolfsbane whisky." He shouted at the bartender, who nodded and filled up five shot glasses, sliding them over to Scott, who pounded them one by one. 

As soon as he began to feel the alcohol going through his head, Scott jumped into the crowd, greeting the first friend he saw. 

"Lydia! Hey!" He snaked his arms around the hips of his childhood friend and started to move to the beat. She smiled up at him.

"So Scott, I see that you've finally figured out your sexuality." Lydia smirked. 

Scott froze. "What?" 

"I've always known that you're not completely straight. It's about time that you did too." Lydia turned and pressed back against him, grinding herself against Scott. 

"How..." 

"I was sitting in the crowd when you fought Isaac, Scott. I saw how it went down. I have to say, I'm surprised that you, fifteen time winner, was put off by an erection." Lydia laughed and spun around, snaking her arms around Scott's neck. "So have you fucked him yet?"

Scott choked on his own spit. Lydia was going to take over the world one day, he was completely sure of it. He wasn't sure how he felt about Lydia knowing so much about his personal life. "No." He managed to get out. 

"Well, you should, because it looks like someone's about to." Lydia stopped her seductive grind and jerked her thumb over at a couple pressed against a wall at the back of the deck.

It took Scott a moment to recognize Isaac's curly hair. Isaac, who was currently being pressed against a pillar with his head tipped back in pleasure. The other guy had his lips attached to Isaac's neck and was grinding his hips against Isaac's. Scott growled, instantly seeing red. And suddenly, he was across the deck, yanking the other guy off of Isaac by the collar of his expensive jacket. 

"What the fuck man?" The guy shoved Scott back angrily, his eyes glowing bright blue. "Who the hell do you think you are?" 

Scott felt his eyes glow gold. "Get. Away. Now." He growled, baring his teeth menacingly at the other male, who backed away hesitantly. 

"Scott." Isaac's voice was hoarse. "What are you doing?" 

"I don't know." Scott breathed, pressing closer to Isaac and breathing in his scent. Isaac smelled like citrus, cotton, grass, and something deep and primal that Scott couldn't quite put his finger on. All he knew was the he wanted to push Isaac against the wall and claim him. Scott slipped his hands around Isaac's waist, resting his fingertips lightly on the smooth patch of exposed skin. They stared at each other for a long time, brown eyes gazing into unblinking blue, both dizzy with alcohol and arousal.

"We..." Isaac swallowed. It felt like every inch of his body was wired, even though Scott had barely touched him. "We should move." The people walking by who were sober enough to notice Scott and Isaac were fixing them with varying looks, ranging from suspicious to confused to salacious. 

"Yeah." Scott let Isaac lead him by his hand over to the inside of the yacht and down a set of stairs until they reached a bedroom with two queen sized beds. Being out of the flashing strobe lights and throbbing base cleared Scott's head and the reality of what he had just done began to sink in.

Isaac shut the door and sat down on one of the beds, running his hand through his curls as he did so. He looked up at Scott expectantly, who made to sit down next to Isaac, but at the last second he chickened out and sat across from Isaac, on the other bed. 

"So," Scott said. He shifted uncomfortably. "This is Erica's boat."

"Technically it's her family's boat but yeah, tonight it's hers." Isaac tugged at his sleeve, wrapping the fabric around his index finger.

"Who was that guy?" Scott asked abruptly after a moment of tense silence. Isaac looked at Scott, confused. 

"The one who...had you against the wall."

"Oh." Isaac blushed. "That one. Ryan. He's one of Erica's bandmates. He plays bass."

Scott scowled. "He must be good with his fingers then?"

"I wouldn't know." Isaac replied, looking at Scott with an expression on his face somewhere between confusion and tenderness.

"I didn't like that." 

"I could tell. You pulled the guy off of me." Isaac cracked a smile, and stood up, going over to sit next to Scott. 

"So yesterday." Scott began.

"I was in heat." Isaac interrupted, putting his hand on Scott's knee. "We both were. It's okay. We should just forget about it." He smiled warmly at Scott, who was sure that Isaac could hear his heart pounding just from the heat of Isaac's hand.

"Yeah." Scott fell silent. 

Isaac got up after a few moments. "I'm...gonna just go then." He said, barely masking the disappointment in his voice.

Scott nodded, looking down at his hands.  _Say something you idiot!_

"Do you want to do something sometime?" He blurted out just as Isaac was about to step out the door. "I'd like to get to know you sober." He added.

Isaac's grin was almost blinding. "Yeah, I'd like that." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> let me know if you guys have any ideas in mind


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think that this is just a filler chapter. Idk, i'm going back to school tomorrow, but I'll be updating sometime this week, maybe around wednesday.

Scott stared at the scrap of paper in his hands, grinning like an idiot. Scrawled on it was Isaac's phone number. "Call me." The blonde had said with a wink before disappearing off to find Erica.

"Scott!" Stiles speed walked over, or as close to walking as he could get with the amount of alcohol in his system. "Lets go." He grabbed Scott's arm and dragged him off the boat and didn't stop stumbling/walking until he had reached the street. 

"I was hooking up with a guy and we were in one of the rooms downstairs and he was really fucking hot and we were halfway through, and guess who walks in?" Stiles hailed and cab and climbed in, slurring his address at the cabbie.

"Who?" Scott pulled out his phone and made a face at the 10% battery. He quickly entered Isaac's phone number into his contacts, putting a little smiley face next to his name. 

"Derek. Fucking. Hale." Stiles let his forehead fall against the window pane in despair.

"Stiles, you haven't even spoken to him." Scott pointed out. He leaned closer. "How much have you had to drink?"

"I dunno." Stiles hummed sleepily, then his eyes shot open. "You barely know Isaac! And Derek is soooo hot!"

Scott sighed. He had had more to drink that Stiles, but even when it was wolfsbane liquor, his body still processed the toxin better than human bodies. He already felt somewhat sober, albeit a bit high on giddiness after his conversation with Isaac.

"I'll introduce you, okay?" He patted Stiles on the back. 

"Mmm. Thanks Scotty." Stiles said, his words muffled by the alcohol. "He's really fucking hot. Like, I wanna climb him like a tree. Take a ride on his disco stick. Put his menorah into my Hanukah bush. Put his hot--"

"Stop!" Scott cried, shivering. The imagery of his best friend having sex with one of his employers was too disturbing to stomach. "I'll fucking introduce you to him! Now stop with the dirty talk!"

* * *

Erica was cuddled into Boyd in the master stateroom. Also in the room were the members of First Line, a few musicians and several of Isaac and Erica's close friends from the good ol' days. The room was dimly lit and was filled with the scent of alcohol and expensive perfumes. Huddled in the corner of the room, where the shadows were the darkest, Lydia Martin and Jackson were so intertwined that Isaac couldn't tell where either began or ended. Jackson had his hands tangled in Lydia's hair and her nails were digging into the skin of his back.

"What have you been up to?" Erica asked, untangling herself from Boyd so she could face Isaac.

"With Scott." Isaac grinned and dropped down onto the bed. 

"McCall?" Danny asked incredulously. "The one you knocked out in the Octagon?" 

Isaac nodded. 

"Oh for fuck's sake." Erica said messily. "Has Scott come out of his little gay crisis? You know, thank God he was in that or you would've never beat him." 

Isaac froze, heart pounding, but no one around him seemed to hear Erica's remark. 

"Alright!" She announced. "My wolfy senses tell me that we're far enough away from the coast to break out the goodies!" She pulled out a leather makeup bag the size of her head, unzipped it, and overturned it. Out fell a packet of white powder, a small brick of weed and a few fat joints. 

"Is that what I think it is?" Isaac picked up the bag of white powder and turned it over in his hands.

"Ohhh, oh, oh!" Erica squealed. She had never been able to contain herself when she was intoxicated. "So my brother, the lawyer, wait who cares, all of my brothers are lawyers." Erica dissolved into giggles, and after a good thirty seconds of heartfelt laughter, she wiped the tears from her eyes and continued. "So my lawyer brother got this genius chemist off of like human experimentation charges, and we've been chemistry buddies for the past few months and he whipped me up this delightful concoction. There's a bit of everything in there, and he got a witch to spell it so we come down real easy. He calls it Nirvana." 

"Let's break that sucker open!" Jay, the drummer of First Line shouted. Isaac rolled his eyes. Typical.

Erica handed Jay the packet. He opened it and poured some onto a hardcover book. With a squeegee he formed uniform lines and rolled a few bills into a straw. 

"Will you have the honors, since it is your party?" He handed Isaac the straw. Isaac stared at it hesitantly.

"Bullshit." Erica interrupted. "My party, I'll do the honors." She clambered off the bed, flashing half the room in the process, and did a line of powder. She let out a whoop and laughed, sniffing as she did so. 

"Yeahhh." Jay crowed, leaning down and doing a line.

Boyd had silently filled a few papers with weed and rolled a few long joint. He handed one to Isaac.

"Thanks." Isaac smiled, lighting the joint up. He took a long, deep drag and held the earthy smoke in his lungs. After the second drag, he already felt the dizzying effects of the drug. A lazy grin stretched over his face and he kneeled slowly, reaching over to take the straw out of Erica's hands. He breathed through his nose as he moved the straw over the white powder. The fine crystals tickled the inside of his nose, but not much. In a matter of seconds, Isaac began to feel the drug's effects. He felt so uplifted that he began to giggle. 

Someone turned on some music, and Isaac threw his head back, moving his body to the throbbing bass. It was as if he could feel every individual beat, every individual note of the music. He laughed as he danced, and opened his eyes. The room seemed to be throbbing along to the beat, and everytime someone moved, they left a blurry imprint, as if they were trailing behind themselves. 

Someone snaked their arms around Isaac's waist and he instinctively pushed back into the warm heat. It all felt so good. The vibrations of the music traveling through his body, the intoxicating cocktail of drugs and the warmth of the body behind him as Isaac danced along. 

* * *

Stiles was jolted awake as a heavy weight fell onto him. 

"Scott!" He groaned. "You're supposed to be hungover." Stiles tentatively cracked open an eye and immediately squeezed it shut. There was sunlight streaming into his room from the wide open window and every ray of sunlight was a burst of pain in his skull. 

"Werewolves don't get hungover." Scott pressed a few pills into Stiles's left hand and a bottle of water into his right. "Come on. Take the medicine." 

"No." Stiles whined. "I want to sleep. For fucks sake Scott, just let me sleep!" 

"Alright." Scott conceded. "But I have a meeting with Peter Hale, and I thought that I'd bring you along. You know, Derek lives in the penthouse above WFC HQ, so I just thought that you'd like to come along."

Stiles groaned again, and Scott grinned, walking away from the bed slowly.

Then, after a second, "Fine. Just let me get dressed."

 

Stiles wandered the hallways of the WFC HQ aimlessly. Scott and Deaton had just stepped into Peter Hale's office for their meeting, and Hale had looked over at Stiles disdainfully and said, "Don't break anything." 

In all honesty, the comment was offensive. Why did people always assume that he would break things? Stiles was very coordinated, thank you very much. He had played lacrosse in high school, and even though he remained on the bench for a good portion of the season, he had been an integral part of the team. 

Stiles was busy scrolling through his Twitter feed and writing an inspirational tweet when he bumped into an oh so familiar brick wall. 

"What are you doing here?'" A gruff voice asked. 

"Huh?" Stiles blinked and pocketed his phone. He flushed red. Not only had he bumped into Derek Hale, he had bumped into Derek Hale for the second time. 

"What. Are. You. Doing. Here." Derek said slowly, looking down at Stiles from under his thick eyebrows. 

"You know, uh, you know, just chilling. Scott's in a meeting." Stiles stammered. Derek could probably hear Stile's heart beat speed up and is close proximity wasn't helping. "What are you doing here?"

Derek looked at him strangely. "I work here." He started to walk down the hall.

"Well, yeah, I figured, your uncle's in charge here, but what specifically do you do?" Stiles sped up to catch up with Derek.

"I travel and try to recruit new talent." Derek replied, stopping by an office that had his name printed on the plaque by the door. 

"So why aren't you traveling now?" Stiles asked, leaning against the frame.

"I'm leaving on Saturday for Amsterdam." 

"Nice. Oh, you were at Erica's party last night. How was it?" Stiles vaguely remembered Derek walking in on him and some rando in bed and flushed.

"You were drunk." Derek remarked. "And tangled in my cousin Max."

"Your...cousin? Oh. Max. Right. I didn't know. Sorry man." Stiles mentally cursed himself. Nobody wanted to get it on with someone who had gotten head from their cousin. 

"Not my problem." Derek walked into his office and reached to close the door. Right before it shut, he said, "I told him you had herpes."

* * *

"Fucking hell." Isaac muttered, pulling open the medicine cabinet in the master bathroom. His head hurt like a motherfucker and he looked like complete shit. All he hoped was that Scott didn't want to see him today, or he would be royally fucked. There were dark circles underneath Isaac's eyes and his eyeballs were bloodshot and burning dry. 

"Morning." Erica walked into the bathroom and bumped Isaac aside with her hip. Her makeup was smudged underneath her eyes, but her eyes themselves were curiously clear. Of course, even after a night of partying, Erica still looked drop dead gorgeous. 

"Jesus, E, I thought you said that coming down would be easy?" Isaac groaned, his fingers finally finding a bottle of aspirin. He swallowed a few pills dry, grimacing as they stuck to his throat. 

"Trust me," Erica put the lid of the toilet seat down and lit up a joint. The smoke that wafted from the glowing end smelled nothing like tobacco or weed. "This has nothing on Suicide Tuesdays." 

"I feel like someone took a bat to my head." Isaac splashed his face with some cold water and glared at Erica, grabbing the cigarette from between her fingers and stubbing it out. 

"Hey!" Erica protested. "I'm a werewolf. Smoking does nothing to my lungs." 

"It reeks in here." Isaac said. "I don't want to get a contact high."

"It's never bothered you." Erica quipped. "Unless...Are you afraid that Scott will judge your lifestyle?" 

"He might, but the WFC definitely will." Isaac squeezed a few eyedrops into each eye and let out a soft sigh at the relief. 

"Oh. Right. The drug tests." Erica made a face. "The ones that the record company gives us are just for show. The results are all botched anyways." 

"Yeah, well, by some miracle, I'm the new Lightweight Champion, and I'm the youngest ever, so I'd like to be able to fight some matches this time without failing a drug test." Isaac closed the cabinet.

"Good luck with that." Erica laughed, and picked up the joint, tucking it inside her bra.

"God. What happened last night?" Isaac pressed the heel of his hand into his eye sockets. 

"Like I know." Erica scoffed. "I was more shattered than you were. But I think Alan recorded it."

"Shit." Isaac stalked into the bedroom, where there were several people piled onto the massive bed, and others were fast asleep on the carpet. Sure enough, there was a camcorder lying next to Alan. Isaac picked it up and played it back. It was a pretty long video. It started with Erica and Jay and Isaac doing a few lines of Nirvana, then a few other people smoking and snorting, and the dancing, the sex, not to mention that Alan was probably pretty messed up too; the camera was shaking like Alan was having some kind of seizure. Isaac sped up the video until he saw himself on the screen, dancing with a guy with brown hair. He had seen the guy drop by to give stuff to Erica before, Isaac was pretty sure that he was a dealer, but had never gotten his name. The camera moved and Isaac fast forwarded until he came on screen again, except this time, he was on the bed, moaning at the top of his lungs while Random Drug Dealer bobbed his head up and down in a very familiar fashion. 

"Fuck fuck fuck." Isaac yanked the card out of the camcorder and reached into his jeans for some money. He used the camcorder to weigh down two twenties and walked back to the bathroom. 

"Erica. I need you to keep this somewhere safe. Okay? I'll be back for it, but if this gets out, then you and I, along with everyone here, is screwed. So just...hide it." He shoved the card into her hand. 

"Yeah, of course." Erica walked into the bedroom and yanked up one corner of the carpet. There was a loose floorboard, and she pulled that up. Underneath the floor was a small wooden box. She put the card inside and smoothed the carpet over the floorboard again. 

"See? Safe and sound. Now let's go get breakfast." Erica linked her arm with Isaac's and they walked out. 

Not five seconds later, Jackson rolled over, his eyes too alert for someone who had just woken up. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im not promoting drug use. uh. leave your comments!


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is the result of GStarRoss's urging haha. Oh and for the record, skips in the lines indicate a time change within the same day and the line indicates a time change into another day. Again, sorry for typos, but it's late.

"So where do I take a guy for a first date?" Scott asked as he jogged along the Bridle Path with Stiles. 

"Don't know." Stiles panted. His face was flushed and sweaty, and he was starting to slow down.

"Stiles!" Scott slowed down to keep up with his best friend. "Where do you take guys?"

"Dinner?" Stiles suggested, dragging the back of his hand across his forehead. Scott tugged Stiles aside to let another jogger pass. 

"The press will follow us and I don't think it's a good idea for them to see us on a date."

"I'd suggest that you cook him a meal, but I'd rather you not burn your apartment down." Stiles smirked and started to jog again, so slowly that Scott only had to walk at a brisk pace to keep up.

"Just do what you would for a girl." Stiles glanced down at his phone and cursed. "I have to go meet up with one of my clients. This one's got some real self esteem issues. I have to start by removing all the tape from her mirrors." Stiles shook his head and clapped Scott on the back. "Good luck Scotty, and whatever you do, use a condom." He winked and ran off. 

Scott stood on the path, staring at his phone for a good five minutes, letting the other joggers pass him before he pulled up Isaac's contact information and pushed the call button. As the line rang, for a split second Scott felt a bolt of terror and was about to hang up when Isaac picked up.

"Hello?" His voice was a bit rough and raspy. Scott stared at his phone in panic before responding.

"Hey. It's Scott." 

"What's up?" There was a clatter of what sounded like silverware in the background and the sounds of a brief struggle that left Scott wondering what Isaac had gotten himself into. 

"Sorry about that." Isaac said a few seconds later. "I'm having breakfast with Erica and she's just overexcited."

"How was the rest of the party?" Scott asked. He was pretty sure he heard Danny mention something about sailing into international waters to break out the "goods", whatever they were.

There was a pause before Isaac replied smoothly. "Uneventful. I think that what happens during drug use is way overexaggerated by the media." 

Scott nodded a few times before he realized that Isaac couldn't see him. "So what are you doing tomorrow night?" 

"I have a date." Isaac replied, and a lick of ice trickled down Scott's spine. He feltmentally chided himself for being stupid enough to think that Isaac was only interested in him. Judging by what had happened between Isaac and Erica's bandmate, Erica probably had to keep the guys and girls away from her best friend with a baseball bat. 

"Oh. Sorry." Scott swallowed hard. 

"So pick me up at 7?" Isaac asked. There was a clack as Isaac's fork brushed against his teeth. 

"What?" Scott stammered, caught completely off guard. 

"You're my date, dumbass." Scott could practically hear Isaac rolling his eyes over the phone. "Since you already know where I live, just pick me up at 7. What are we doing?"

"Uh, it's a surprise." 

"So you don't know. Then just pick me up at 9. I guess I'll be having dinner with my brother." Isaac laughed. "It'll be great anyways. Just to see you." 

"Yeah." Scott breathed, his heart doing a strange little jig when he heard those words. "I'll see you tomorrow."

* * *

Scott tugged nervously at his leather jacket as he knocked on the door of Isaac's apartment. He heard sounds of footsteps before the door was pulled open to reveal a smiling Isaac, who was also wearing a leather jacket. 

"Wow, McCall, I like your style." Isaac smirked and grabbed his keys before closing and locking his door. "So what do you have planned for us?"

Scott grinned. "You'll see." 

Isaac laughed gleefully when they stepped out of his building. "Oh my God, yes!" He walked right up to the black Harley parked at the curb and swung his leg over and fastened the spare helmet on his head. He stopped and turned to Scott. "I'm going to be really embarassed if this isn't your bike." 

Scott smiled slyly at Isaac before climbing in front of Isaac and slipping a helmet over his own head. "You might want to hold onto me." 

"With pleasure." Isaac purred into Scott's ear as he slipped his arms around Scott, perhaps a bit too low on his waist. 

With a rev, they were speeding off into the night. They maneuvered between cars easily, and there was surprisingly no traffic that night. As soon as they reached the highway, Scott started going faster and faster, and Isaac let out a whoop of delight. It was exhilarating, every turn felt like they were going to fly off the road and the wind rushing past Scott's face made him feel like he was flying. The night was uncharacteristically warm for winter, and the sky was a velvety blue, unmarred by white clouds, so that the moon was completely visible.

Somewhere between Manhattan and Queen, Isaac's hands began to wander lower and lower, playing with the hem of Scott's shirt before slipping his fingers underneath. Scott shuddered at the cool touch and he felt Isaac grin against his shoulder. Isaac took his time, running his fingers over every ridge in Scott's stomach before brushing the fine hairs trailing down to his briefs. The maddenly light touches continued for the entire ride, with Isaac brushing his fingers just over Scott's hardening cock, so that the other never had any satisfying touches. Scott never knew what a turn on having his abs felt up was, but he was apparently into guys too now, so that was fine. 

The ride was over too soon, and left them on a beach in Rockaway. 

"We're really far out." Isaac remarked as they climbed off the bike. "Are you sure you haven't brought me here to kill me?"

"I should after what you pulled on the bike." Scott said in low voice.

The predatory look on Scott's face made Isaac shiver, but he said innocently, "I don't know what you're talking about. I didn't pull anything."

Scott closed the distance between them and slipped an arm around Isaac's waist, pulling him into a kiss. Isaac was caught off guard at first, but after a shocked moment, he eagerly got on board. Scott had kissed a lot of people, but this, this felt more like his first kiss than anything he had ever experienced. Isaac's lips were soft but firm and he fit against Scott snugly, his hands settling on Scott's hip bones. Isaac parted his lips, allowing Scott access to his mouth. Scott swept his tongue over Isaac's bottom lip before licking into his mouth, savoring the way that Isaac's breath caught. 

It was too soon for Isaac to pull away, but he did. His face was still a mere inch away from Scott's when he whispered, "So did you bring me here to make out with me in the sand or are we actually going to do something?"

Scott grinned and gestured out to the water, where there were two jet skis waiting for them, bobbing gently with the motions of the waves. 

"Holy shit!" Isaac exclaimed. "You're fucking awesome." He grabbed Scott's hand and pulled him towards the water. 

"I knew you'd like it.." Scott stopped to grab a duffel bag behind one of the rocks. He unzipped it and handed Isaac a black wetsuit with a white stripe down the side. "I had to guess your size, but I'm pretty sure it'll fit."

Isaac wasted no time getting out of his clothes, shrugging off his jacket and yanking off his shirt and tossing them both in the sand. His jeans followed and Scott couldn't help but admire the way the moonlight caught Isaac's lean muscles and defined them in a way that they seemed to almost glow with a silvery fire. 

"Are you gonna stand there staring or join the program?" Isaac looked over at Scott as he pulled on his wetsuit over his briefs. 

Scott blinked as Isaac zipped up the suit and started shucking off his clothes and pulling the wetsuit over his bare skin. The fabric was cold, but Scott knew that he would quickly warm up.

"Do you know how to drive one of these?" Scott asked as Isaac eagerly waded into the water and climbed onto a jet ski. 

"Nope," Was all Isaac said before throwing Scott a grin and drenching him in salty water as the ski sped off into deeper water. Scott blinked the salt water out of his eyes before jumping on his own ski and revving the engine to chase after Isaac. 

The waves out in deeper water were rougher and bigger, and everytime Isaac approached one, he sped up and jumped it, laughing in abandon. He spun around, doing a 180 before stopping to a halt and looking at Scott, a silent dare glinting in his blue eyes. 

Scott grinned and scanned the water before zeroing in on a big wave and speeding towards it. When he hit the wave, he must've jumped 15 feet into the air. It was as if he were falling in slow motion and he vocalized the thrill running through him with a loud whoop. However, Scott wasn't prepared for the landing, and when the jet ski landed on the water again, the impact knocked Scott off of the ski and into the water with a loud splash.

When Scott resurfaced again, he heard another splash and looked up to see Isaac's empty jet ski. Suddenly, arms wrapped around him from behind and Isaac began to press closed mouthed kisses to Scott's neck. 

"This is great." Isaac murmured into Scott's ear and turned him around to press his lips against Scotts. They clung to each other, floating in the waves, just savoring the feeling of each other, with no urgency to get off, just kissing for the sake of intimacy. 

"You know," Scott whispered when Isaac pulled away to press his forehead against Scott's. "Before today, we hadn't actually kissed. We did...other stuff. But there was no kissing involved." 

"Good." Isaac replied. "I'm glad that our first kiss wasn't when we were both in heat." 

Afterwards, they raced back to the shore (Scott won) and dragged the jet skis onto the sand. They took their time peeling off the wetsuits, hands exploring each other lazily as they kissed again. 

On the way back, Scott was braced for Isaac to slip his fingers underneath his shirt again, but Isaac just scooted close and pressed his warm body to Scott, resting his head against Scott's back. In a few minutes, his breathing slowed and even out as he fell asleep, his arms wrapped around Scott.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope the jet ski scene was okay. I know nothing about them so you guys will have to forgive me if there are any inconsistencies


	9. AUTHORS NOTE

Hey guys, I've had partial writers block for the past week, and I've been drawing some inspiration from the other wonderful writers here on AO3. It'd be great if you could recommend some good Scisaac or Sterek fics; I'm thinking that Stiles should pay Derek a little visit at WFC, what do you think? I'm not sure when the next update is going to be, because my week looks so incredibly hectic and busy, so if I'm strangely silent, please don't think that I'm abandoning this fic! Thanks again for all your kudos and support, especially to GStarRoss for all the encouragement and love. 


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is just a really short chapter because I felt like I was kind of neglecting the whole Erica/Boyd thing, but ill be back with more scisaac hopefully by this weekend!

Isaac slipped back into his apartment, lips still tingling from Scott's very... _enthusiastic_ kiss to hear Erica belting out the chorus of one of her hits. He had heard this song enough times to know that she was pushing her vocals higher and higher, singing the chorus differently every time. She was sprawled on his carpet with a few First Line members and a other random people were scattered around Isaac's living room. Isaac was surprised to see that Jackson was among them. Jackson, whom Erica never really liked. 

"I! Welcome home honey!" Erica all but shrieked, cutting her second verse short and stumbling over to give him a hug. 

"Jeez Erica what is this?" There were empty bottles of vodka scattered around the room and there was a bag of white power lying on his coffee table. 

"I was lonely." Erica pouted. "So I had some people over." 

"There's a guy passed out in the corner." Isaac gestured to the scruffy young man leaning limply against the wall. 

"Oh, Terry? He'll be fine, he just needs to talk it off."

"Where's Boyd?" Isaac asked, stepping over a girl clad entirely in leather who was staring up blissfully at his ceiling. Usually, when Boyd was present in any way, Erica's need to be high out her mind was considerably diminished. He calmed her down, and soothed whatever demons wre rioting in her mind. But right now, her hair was disheveled and her pupils were so large that the black swallowed the light amber of her irises. 

"I don't know." Erica whispered. Her dazed smile fell and she slumped down onto the couch. "I don't know where he is."

"Erica, you have to get these people out!" Isaac snapped. The rook reeked of other people and the overbearing scent of drugs. 

"We were just having a bit of fun. Did Scott suck all the fun out of your dick?" Erica sneered, picking up an almost empty bottle and tipping it over her mouth. 

"Up!" Isaac kicked Terry, who jumped and groaned like he was about to vomit, but slowly started to crawl/stumble over to the wall.

"What the fuck?" Erica protested as her friends left one by one. Jackson left with a lingering look at Isaac. He seemed surprisingly sober to be in a room full of drugged up musicians and artists. 

"Erica, you can't just keep doing drugs whenever you want! You have an interview tommorrow!" Isaac started to collect the bottles and dumped them in the trashcan. Then he picked up the bag of white powder.

"Isaac, no." Erica grabbed at his arm, but he jerked the bag out of her reach. 

"I'm getting rid of this." Isaac walked over to the sink and overturned the bag over the drain and washed it down with hot water.

Erica let out a shriek. "What the fuck, Isaac? What the fuck?"

"You know what Erica? You're one of the most talented people I know, don't fuck that up by snorting God knows what into your brain." Isaac tossed the plastic baggie and washed his hands.

"You used to get high with me all the time!" Erica screamed. "We used to have so much fucking fun! And now you're turning your back on me because of some guy you're probably not going to remember in a year? We've been friends for five years, Isaac, FIVE FUCKING YEARS!" Her voice reached a crescendo at the last part and Isaac could hear the glass vibrate. 

At the mention of Scott, Isaac slammed his hands down onto the counter in anger. "This isn't about Scott. I'm trying to save you!" Erica glared at Isaac, her eyes wild and her face flushed with uncontrollable anger.

"Why are you even with him?" Her voice was calmer but every single word was laced with a poison spike. "You know how it's going to end up. You don't date, Isaac! You don't do all that shit! You and I and everyone we know knows that you aren't capable of loving anyone in that way! So stop pretending like Scott is different because he paid more attentio to you and told you that you're special! This is fucking pathetic. I'm not going to clean up after you when you decide to pull out and leave everything in a wreck!"

" _I leave things in a wreck?_ " Isaac yelled incredulously. "You cause destruction everywhere you go! You're a complete mess and you're barely holding it together and everyone knows it! Why do you think Boyd isn't here right now?" 

As soon as the words were out of his mouth Isaac knew he had gone too far. The color drained out of Erica's face and she looked absolutely terrified, like she had just seen a ghost. She turned on her heel and snatched her bag from the table by the door before slamming it behind her so hard that the furniture rattled. 

"Shit." Isaac ran a hand through his hair before going after her, yanking the door several times to dislodge it from the frame. "Erica!" He called, running over to the elevator. It was already down on the ground floor. 

"Fuck, fuck." Isaac pulled out his phone and dialed. Erica had a head start and he was sure that she had several places that she told no one about, places she went to to forget herself. "Boyd? Where the hell are you?"

"I went out. My little sister was having an issue and she called me really early this morning so I had to leave in a hurry. What's wrong?" 

"I had a fight with Erica and she just left and she's high right now and she's probably having an episode and--" The elevator door slid open and Isaac stepped inside. "I have no idea where she's going and I'm so fucking worried."

"Fuck." Boyd cursed. "You just let her go."

"She stormed out!" Isaac ran up to the doorman. "Walt, did you see where Erica went?" 

"She seemed very upset." Walt said in a deep, mellow voice. "She hailed a cab but I didn't hear her destination." 

"Fuck." Isaac ran his hand through his hair. "Boyd, check all of her places on the East Side and I'll check all her places on the West Side. If we don't find her in an hour, call the police. Text me if you find something." 

"Fuck that." Boyd growled. "I'm calling the police now."

Isaac hailed a cab and slid in, slamming the door behind him. As he told the cabbie the address of Erica's favorite club, the sinking feeling grew and twisted in his stomach.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> short and angsty. sorry, ive got an entire house built of writers blocks right now, more later :)

"Fucking, Move!" Isaac snarled as he pushed his way through a writhing crowd of inebriated bodies. The entire joint smelled and looked more like an opium den than a bar, and the first time he had been here, he couldn't believe that Erica, of all people could spend any time here. But this was a place where people went to escape, to forget about themselves and become a part of the big smoke cloud drifting above their heads.]

"Is Lacey here?" He asked when he finally reached the bar. Erica never, ever, ever used her real name in places like this.

"Sorry." The bartender replied without looking up. He was a middle aged, balding man with a slight beer belly protruding from the bottom of his wifebeater. Scrawled on the glistening top of his head in black marker was "FRANK".

"So listen, Frank." Isaac began, leaning casually against the sticky wooden counter before lunging forward to yank Frank towards him by the front of his shirt. "Just tell me where Lacey is and we'll be all good." He let his fangs elongate and his eyes flash gold just for a second, but long enough for Frank to get the point.

"She came in a few hours ago, went straight to the back. I don't know if she's left of not! Just don't hurt me man!" Frank blabbered, eyes wide and terrified.

"Thank you." Isaac flashed Frank a smile before shoving his way through the crowd again.

Isaac pushed through a thick curtain, cringing as it brushed against his bare arms. The back was lined with cushy velvet curtains, but there were joints and cigarette butts littering the floor, mixed in with the occaisional syringe. It wasn't very crowded, but everyone in the room seemed to be injecting or snorting or smoking something. There were two guys in the corner having sex, the top frantically thrusting in as the bottom moaned loudly, his head tossing back and forth.

All the way at the back were more seats, but they were empty.

"Fuck." Isaact muttered, pushing a hand through his hair. "Where are you Erica?" He turned to leave, but a flash of blond caught his eye. And there, tucked between the curtained walls and couch cushions was Erica, passed out with her head sprawled against the couches, half hidden by the drape of the curtain.

"Oh my God." Isaac tripped over his feet as he ran to the couch. He turned Erica over, pushing the hair out of her face. Her makeup was smudged around her eyes, shockingly harsh against her bone white complexion. There were fading trackmarks running up and down her arm, and she was completely unconscious. Isaac swallowed a sob and pressed a shaking finger to Erica's wrist. He wasn't sure if the pulse he was feeling was his own franticly beating heart, or the dying throb of Erica's.

"Boyd?" Isaac yanked out his phone and dialed quickly. "I found her." In that moment, Isaac hated how fucking shaky his voice sounded. He took a shallow breath. Then Isaac slipped his arms  under Erica and lifted her up, carrying her through the mess of drugs and sex in the back and past the mindless crowd in the front. He got her outside in the cold air and leaned her against his side while he dialed 911 on his phone.

"I need an ambulence." Isaac glanced at the sign above the bar before giving the address. "Hurry, please, she's overdose on something and I don't know what." Then the phone hit the ground and Isaac was pulling Erica to him, hoping that the warmth of her body was from the blood pumping through her veins and not residual from the stifling heat in the bar.

 

When Isaac dropped into the cold, plastic hospital chair, he finally allowed himself to break down. The sobs forced their way out of his throat, coming out in ugly, choking sounds. He gasped for air, blinded by the blur of salty tears. His hands fisted themselves in his hair and his nails dug into his scalp as he squeezed his hands together.

The only indication of Boyd's arrival was the soft sound of his feet and a rustle of fabric as Boyd sat down next to Isaac. Isaac couldn't look at him. He couldn't even imagine the look on Boyd's face.

There was a soft exhale of air as Boyd opened his mouth to speak. "You should go." He said hoarsely. Isaac blinked at Boyd through his wet lashes before nodding and shakily getting to his feet.

 

His worn boots dangled over the rooftop as Isaac scooted closer to the edge. There was this knot in his chest, and it kept tightening, until it would eventually snap, and Isaac would snap along with it. He reached blindly into his jacket pocket and pulled out a cigarette, taking a shaky drag before it tumbled from his fingers, the glowing tip igniting as it made its descent down to the gray pavement below.

Even up here, with the wind ruffling through his curls and the city extending all around him, Isaac felt claustrophobic, like the air around him was closing in, pressing against his mouth and nose, suffocating him. His claws extended and gripped the rough brick and he gasped, desperately trying to drag in oxygen. Then suddenly, everything was dark. There was a scratched up wall of metal above his head and his limbs ached. Isaac could still feel the cold air and abrasive stone on his skin, but he was back in the box.

Isaac jerked and dug his claws into the brick, tossing his head as he fought to breathe. The metal walls were closing him and he screamed, begging to be let out. He felt his claws scrape the brick, and suddenly, there was nothing underneath him, just air, as he slipped off the ledge. His mouth opened for a second, leting out a startled shout before his fall was cut short by a iron tight grip around his bicep. 

Isaac let up a ragged breath as he was dragged up onto the rooftop. He laid there, sprawled out on the cold stone before looking up into Scott's brown eyes. 

"Isaac." Scott whispered, eyes wide. Isaac swallowed and sat up. 

"Erica. She overdosed." He choked out, then Scott's arms were around him, pressing Isaac into his chest as Isaac began to shake uncontrollably. 

 

 


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh my goodness its been so long! So I've decided that I should basically do smaller, more frequent updates

Erica's usually rosy complexion looked sickly under the fluorescent glow of the hospital lights. Isaac swallowed hard and wrapped his hands around hers, staring at her face, willing her to wake. There was an IV in her arm and she was hooked up to a few scary looking machines that were beeping simultaneously. 

"Erica." He whispered, not trusting his own voice to actually speak out loud. "Just...wake up. Please. I need you to be here." Thin black veins started running up his arm as he inhaled slowly, face contorting into a grimace as Erica's pain flowed through her skin and into Isaac.

Isaac felt his heart palpitate and he gasped, doubling over but not letting go of Erica's hand. A wave of dizziness struck his body and he retched, feeling the sensation leave the lower part of his body. He knew perfectly well the dangers of what he was doing. He had gotten the lecture in several Werewolf Health classes, but the doctor had looked more somber than an ER doctor usually did, and Isaac could hear Boyd's heart breaking even though the other man's face was devoid of emotion. Erica had always been in his life, and although it was her pain flowing into him, Isaac knew what he was doing was entirely selfish. He couldn't afford to lose the only family he had.

"Iz?" A hoarse voice said, barely audible over the beeping and thundering of Isaac's blood. His eyes flew open and he smiled weakly, finally letting go of Erica's hand. His heart was still racing, but the feeling had slowly flowed back into his legs, and the dizziness was receding. 

"Erica." Isaac laughed, tears clouding his vision. She looked awful. Her skin was an ugly shade of gray and there were bruise like circles underneath her eyes. But her fingers had wrapped around Isaac's and were squeezing back. 

"I--" Erica began, then swallowed hard and looked away, her amber eyes shining with tears. "I'm sorry. So sorry. For everything."

Isaac let out a shaky breath and pressed the button to call the nurse. He stood from where he was kneeling, stumbling as he made his way over to the door.

Boyd burst into the room way before the nurse and stopped cold when he saw Erica awake. 

"Hey." She said weakly, holding out her hand.

"I swear to God," Boyd growled, tears finally spilling over his cheeks. "If you ever to that to me ever again, Erica." 

"I love you." She interruped before he could go on. 

Boyd looked at his girlfriend, who was beginning to regain some of the color back in her cheeks, then at Isaac, who had felt the blood leave his face when he took Erica's pain. He was swaying on his feet and could barely prevent his knees from buckling. The corner of Boyd's mouth crooked up and Isaac knew that that was the closest to a thank you that he would ever get from Boyd.

"I love you too." Boyd pressed a kiss to Erica's pale lips, and Isaac slipped silently out the door, giving the two lovers some alone time.

 

Scott walked into Stile's room unannounced and smirked when his best friend jumped and slammed his laptop closed, hands flying down to rest over his crotch.

"Were you looking at porn?" He asked, leaning against the doorframe and raising an eyebrow.

"No." Stiles said stubbornly. He crossed his legs and folded his arms and Scott took this opportunity to use his werewolf speed and snatch Stile's laptop from the bed. He held it up triumphantly. 

"What's so bad about porn?" He asked. Stiles was completely open about his sexuality and fetishes, much to Scott's dismay. "Was it really kinky shit? Tentacle porn?" 

"Fuck off." Stiles muttered. "Give me my laptop back."

Scott opened the laptop and his eyebrows shot up. "Huh. Not porn. But a collection of Derek Hale's WFC matches."

Stiles flushed. "It was a pop up?"

Scott shook his head. "Come on Stiles. Just ask him out. I'm pretty sure I've seen him checking out my ass." 

Stiles frowned at Scott, eyes narrowing. "He's out of the country for the next few days. But what about you and a certain Giant Slayer?"

"He's dealing with the whole Erica thing. I think he may have tried to kill himself the other day."

"What the fuck?" Stiles choked, eyes wide. "How?"

"I had to pull him up from the edge of the roof. He had just fallen." Scott chewed on his lip. Even though Stiles was his best friend, it felt kind of wrong telling him about Isaac's personal life, especially when Stiles and Isaac hadn't had any interaction at all so far.

"Fallen or jumped?"

"I don't know!" Scott threw his hands up. "He broke down right after and told me that Erica had overdosed."

"I'm surprised that that isn't all over the news by now." Stiles opened his laptop and typed furiously. "Nope. Nothing online, nothing on the gossip sites."

"Erica's a big girl I'm sure she paid for discretion. I mean, she does have a boat."

"What about Isaac?" Stiles asked. 

"I think," Scott started, then stopped to let out a breath. "I think that there's way more to Isaac than I know. There's something in his past that's still haunting him. He was having this panic attack and it looked like he was somewhere else. This was before he fell and he was screaming for someone to let him out."

"Scott, everyone has something in their past. You were violently mauled by an alpha werewolf in high school and my parents decided to name me something very unfortunate that I hope the general public never gets to find out."

"I have a feeling that this is different. It's darker than being bitten. I smelled betrayal and blood on him. It even scared me."

"So ask." Stiles said, running his hands through his hair. "Just ask and if he trusts you, he'll tell." 

* * *

Scott found Isaac on the roof of his building, taking long drags from a cigarette and blowing smoke rings into the air. As soon as Isaac heard Scott, he flicked his cigarette over the edge of the roof and reached into his pocket for breath mints.

"I don't care that you smoke." Scott declared, dropping down next to him and tugging the pack out of Isaac's pocket. "I enjoy the occaisonal cigarette myself." He lit a cigarette and took a small drag, letting his lungs acclimate to the smoke before taking another.

Isaac smiled at him and plucked the cigarette from his fingers, taking a deep drag and watching the tip glow red. 

"How's Erica?" Scott asked a few drags later. 

"Awake. Rapidly recovering." Isaac smiled softly, closing his eyes and tilting his head back in pleasure as a soft breeze blew. 

"That's good. Is she back home?"

"No, the hospital isn't entirely convinced that her overdose was an accident, so they're keeping her there for detox and on suicide watch." Isaac frowned. "But she's mostly okay."

Scott nodded and swallowed, trying to formulate his next question in the least prying way possible. "The other day. Uh, here. Before you fell. You were kind of, uh, having a panic attack and you were screaming for someone to let you out. What was that?" 

Isaac stared at Scott for several long seconds, his facial expression stony. Scott wasn't sure if he was in shock or thinking, but Isaac opened his mouth, ready to talk. Then, something flickered in his eyes and his expression hardened into something akin to anger. He stood up, dropped the cigarette and ground it under the ball of his foot, breaking it open so that it was just a smear of brown tobbacco on the ground. Then he walked away, slamming the door behind him with a bang. 

 


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not dead! it's been a crazy week, but really eventful! Btw I just got my belly button pierced haha. But heres some Scisaac for you all!

Isaac stood on the deck of Erica's boat, staring out at the blue gray waves of the Atlantic. He had kidnapped Erica from the hospital and they had sped down to the pier in a cab and took her boat way out into the sea. The moment she had seen his paniced expression, Erica squeezed his wrist and slid out of her bed, announcing a field day.

"I'm so fucking glad to be back in real clothes." Erica walked up to the railing, a cigarette between her fingers. She had changed out of the hospital gown and into a low cut black tank and leather pants. Her tired eyes were hidden behind dark Ray-Bans, but Isaac knew that she was staring at his face, scrutinizing him.

Isaac made a noise of agreement and took the cigarette from her, flicking it out into the sea. 

"What the hell?" Erica snapped. "I was smoking that!"

"Smoking kills." Isaac replied tersely. 

"We're both werewolves. We don't get cancer." Erica reached into her pocket for another cigarette, but stopped when Isaac's expression turned grim(er). 

"Isaac. Tell me what happened." Erica squeezed his arm and wrapped her arm around his shoulders. 

"You were in the hospital. I was panicking, having a breakdown. I had another flashback of being in the freezer and I almost fell off the roof. Scott saved me and now he wants to know all about my past." Isaac said bitterly. "So I left."

"Jesus." Erica let out a sigh. "You could've died!"

"So could you!" Isaac snapped back. "You just up and left and overdosed on God knows what. You're still not forgiven for that. Boyd was so fucking worried. I was worried. It's not all about you, Erica! You're hurting other people too!" 

"Fucking hell." Erica muttered. "I'm sorry, okay? I'm sorry that I snapped and loaded myself up with drugs. I am. But that doesn't change the fact that you're so damn terrified of letting someone get close to you that you don't realize that you're isolating yourself. What are you so afraid of?"

Isaac fisted his hands in his curls and dug his nails into his scalp. Then he breathed out, and all the tension left his body. "When I left Beacon Hills, I left that part of me behind. It died with my father, and if I talk about it, I'll be breathing life back into this part of me that I don't even want to think about!"

Erica's golden eyes were piercing. She stared at Isaac for a long time before sliding her hands off the railing. "That part of you may be dead, but it's still haunting you. Let it go, Isaac." She she walked away, her loud boots thumping against the deck. 

A salty breeze blew Isaac's hair into his eyes and he squeezed them shut. As soon as darkness slid over his eyes, he was back. The scratched up gray walls of that cramped freezer were surrounding him again, and he gritted his teeth. He was fighting to draw in breaths. There was a trickle of warmth down his hands and Isaac knew, in the back of his mind, that his claws had broken skin. The walls were closing in on him. They would crush him soon enough, and then he would just be a mangled pile of flesh and bone. 

Just as darkness slid over Isaac's vision again, he heard Scott's voice. He couldn't make out what he was saying, but he recognized his voice, and suddenly, he could open his eyes again. Isaac's hands were coated him his own blood, but the puncture marks were already healing. 

The deck of the boat was completely empty. Isaac lowered his shaking hands, and wiped his bloody palms on his sweater. He made his way down to the staterooms and into the master bedroom, where Erica had changed into leggings and one of Boyd's sweatshirts and was curled up with a book. 

"Yes?" Her eyes never left the page, but Isaac knew that all her attention was on him. 

"Let's go back." Isaac whispered. "I have something to say."

* * *

"Scott." Stiles poked at Scott's side, making him squirm further into his sheets. "Scotty!" Stiles yanked the blankets from Scott's grip and rolled his best friend out of bed. 

"No." Scott groaned. "Let me sleep." He covered his head with his arms.

"Scott, you've been sleeping for the past 20 hours. Just get up and go do something." Stiles said, exasperated. "Go eat something before you die of starvation."

"Don't be a fucking drama queen." Scott grumbled, but complied, getting out of bed reluctantly and pulling a sweater on over his bare chest. "I'm up. Happy?"

"Ecstatic." Stiles said sarcastically. He walked towards the kitchen and Scott followed. On the counter were a plate of sandwiches and a few bottles of beer. 

"Look. So Isaac doesn't want to talk about it. It's understandable. You barely know the guy. You've been on one date. He technically heat-raped you. It's all in a gray area. But don't push it. You're pushing him away. Just go and I don't know, bring some Thai food and watch TV. And then you guys can go and get me Derek's number and find out when he's coming back to the States!" Stiles shoved a sandwich into Scott's hand.

"Your motives are so pure." Scott tooka bite out of the sandwich and almost moaned. Stiles had been to three different culinary schools when he first started college, dropped out and decided to become a life coach, but he was always making the most randomly delicious food. 

"I know. But seriously, Scott. I care about you and your budding sexuality. So just...go make up with Isaac. In bed preferably." Stiles grinned, and took a swig of beer. "But first change into something that doesn't smell like Doritos and Axe."

 

Scott bit his lip nervously. He had been standing outside of Isaac's apartment for the past 5 minutes, trying to work up an apology. He decided to wing it and raised his fist to knock when the door was yanked open violently and a disheveled Isaac came barreling out, only to crash into Scott and send the food skittering across the floor. 

"Shit." Isaac rubbed his head. "Sorry." 

"It's fine." Scott picked up the food and offered a hand to Isaac. 

"I was just going to see you." 

"I brought Thai food." Scott said at the same time. The both laughed. 

"I guess you should come in." Isaac smiled and back into his apartment. 

"So uh." Scott set the food down on he coffee table in front of the TV. "How are you? How's Erica?"

"I'm fine. Erica, uh, signed herself out of the hospital early."

Scott frowned. "My mom was a nurse. I'm pretty sure you can't do that after an attempted suicide slash drug overdose."

Isaac shrugged. "Erica gets what she wants. And I'm pretty sure her uncle's on the board or something, so she's back at her place with a doctor visiting regularly. Boyd's taking care of her."

"That's good." Scott toed the carpet. Isaac was just standing there, his hands jammed into his jean pockets. 

"I'm sorry." Scott blurted out, just as Isaac opened his mouth to speak. "I shouldn't have asked. It's personal and you'll tell me if you ever feel like you can trust me."

"I trust you." Isaac said. "It's just...I haven't exactly made peace with it yet...So I'm still kind of defensive about my past." 

Scott nodded. "Let's just watch some TV. We can cuddle." He offered a small smile and Isaac grinned widely, dropping onto the couch and patting the seat next to him.

 

Isaac really didn't know how he and Scott went from cuddling on the couch and watching old HIMYM episodes to pressed up against the wall with their hands shoved down each other’s pants.

"Fuck," Isaac moaned, arching up into Scott's touch. "Scott." Scott's hand feels amazing on Isaac's cock. He's jerking Isaac off hard and fast and the callouses on Scott's fingers scrape against Isaac's cock, giving the delicious pleasure an edge. 

Then, Scott stops his hand. "I uh, want to take this slow. You know, after the whole Heat thing." 

Isaac groaned. Fucking cocktease. He bit his lip and glanced down at his aching cock. But Scott had a point. What had happened during their Heats was borderline rape, but still, Isaac was perfectly willing, and judging by the hard line jabbing into his hip, Scott was more than willing as well. 

"How slow?" Isaac swallowed, and tucked his cock back into his pants, tugging at his jeans uncomfortably. He took a deep breath and tried to think cold thoughts. 

"I don't know, a month? I want it to mean something when it happens." Scott ran his thumb over the corner of Isaac's jaw. 

"It would mean something now." Isaac's tongue darted out and drew Scott's thumb into his mouth. He sucked gently, and Scott almost went weak at the knees. The inside of Isaac's mouth was hot and warm and wet and Scott could easily picture Isaac on his knees, letting Scott fuck the tight heat of his mouth. A moan escaped Scott's lips and Isaac grinned, reaching down to cup Scott's erection and thumb at the head through the denim.

"Isaac, no." Scott said, his voice strained. "We should wait."

"Fine." Isaac pouted. He straightened his shirt and flopped back down onto the couch. "I guess we should just watch TV now."

Scott sat down next to Isaac, making sure to keep a bit of distance between him and the other boy. But Scott couldn't help but notice every time the tip of Isaac's tongue darted out to wet his slightly swollen, red lips. 


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yea, I've been gone for a while, and I do have some ideas for the next few chapters, and I'm writing them all like right now, and they're pretty intense, and yeah...here's the next one. also i apologize for any spelling or grammar mistakes...

Peter Hale was ten minutes late for their meeting. and Jackson Whittemore did NOT do waiting. What made matters worse was that he could see the fucker sitting in his office, completely aware of Jackson and Finstock sitting outside, but he just kept smiling and talking on the phone like he didn’t have one of WFC’s most popular fighters sitting in front of his office.

“I’m leaving in sixty seconds.” Jackson growled. Finstock looked up nervously then glanced at the office door.

“No need to be melodramatic, Jackson.” The office door opened and Peter gestured for them to enter.

Once Jackson and Finstock were seated in front of his desk, Peter folded his hands and looked straight at Jackson.

“So,” He began. “I think we all know why you’re here, Jackson.”

“And I think that we all know you don’t have to talk to me like I’m a fucking child.” Jackson snapped.

Peter raised an eyebrow but continued in the same soothing voice, one that would normally be used by people trying to calm a rabid animal. His face was a mask of composure, but there was a steely glint in his eye.

“We’ve been discussing your…situation, and we’ve decided that it cannot go on like this any longer. You nearly killed a man. Not for the first time either, and we refused to keep paying people off and passing off your inability to fight as some strange, spontaneously occurring illness. Mr. Jacobs is currently in the hospital in critical condition.”

“Who the fuck is that?” Jackson asked impatiently, examining his manicure.

“He’s the man you beat to a bloody pulp. He is also the man whose kids' college education is completely paid for. By the WFC.” There was an edge to Peter’s voice that made Jackson look up. “So we’ve decided that instead of training for and fighting in the upcoming tournament, you will be going to anger management classes and daily group and individual therapy until you can learn to control yourself.”

“Fuck you!” Jackson burst out. “I don’t need to sit in a room and sob about my feelings to some old bastard, I need to fight! I need to take the title that should’ve been mine! It should’ve been me knocking out McCall, not that fucking faggot!”

The silence seemed to stretch on and on before Peter spoke again, his voice low and calculated and dangerous. “You will go to these sessions or we’ll stop paying the medical bills of all the people you’ve crippled, and when you hear the judge’s gavel sentencing you to life, remember what those ‘faggots’ in prison will do to guys like you.”

“I’m sure that we can work som—“ Finstock said meekly, but was cut off by Jackson’s tirade of curses.

“Fuck you, you little shit, no one tells me what to fucking do!” Jackson stood up and slammed his fist against Peter’s desk, leaving a splintered dent in the hardwood.

“Please see yourselves out.” Peter pressed a silver button underneath his desk and the door swung open. Finstock couldn’t get out fast enough, bolting from his seat and taking long strides through the door.

Jackson gave Peter one last venomous glare before sweeping all the objects off of his desk, enraged. He kicked a hole through the door as he exited.

 

As soon as they were outside the building and in a cab, Jackson turned to Finstock.

“You just fucking stood there! What the fuck am I paying you for?” Jackson seethed, digging his claws into the seats. The driver looked like he was going to tell them to pay for the damage but averted his eyes quickly once he saw Jackson’s glowing blue irises.

“Was I supposed to talk over your tantrum?” Finstock seemed to have spontaneously grown a spine.

“You were supposed to stop him from doing that!” Jackson gestured wilding at the WFC building, quickly disappearing behind them.

“You’re acting like a little, spoiled brat right now, and you deserve everything you got in there. Now, you will go to every one of those sessions and you will take notes like it’s your fucking job, because as of now, it is. I don’t care how many parental issues you have, Jackson, but you have to resolve those right now, or you can find yourself a new coach.” Finstock’s eyes never left the little news screen in front of him.

For once, Jackson was silent.

“So, uh, where to?” The cabbie asked nervously, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel.

“Fuck you.” Jackson hissed, and then he was yanking the handle of the door and jumping out of the cab, narrowly avoiding being hit by an oncoming Prius.

As he shoved his way through the crowd, nearly knocking over a pregnant lady, he muttered angrily under his breath. Then he stuck his hand out and hailed another cab.

No one told Jackson Whittemore what to do.

 

 

Scott had no idea how they all ended up like this, covered in flour and chasing each other around Isaac’s kitchen, flicking water at one another.

They had both woken up on the couch, limbs tangled together, and after Erica and Boyd interrupted their makeout session, they had decided to make pancakes.

“How domestic.” Erica had commented snidely, but nevertheless, she pulled all the ingredients out of Isaac’s pantry and managed to find a stand mixer that Isaac had never even taken out of the box.

The problem was, not one of them knew how to make pancakes, and there had been a little mishap involving the mixer and a bowl of flour.

Scott laughed and tackled Isaac to the ground with a loud war cry. He straddled Isaac’s waist ran his hands along the other boy’s ribs, and Isaac began to writhe and giggle.

“Stop…it…” He said, gasping for breath and simultaneously trying to wiggle his way out from underneath Scott.

“Oh get a room.” Erica commented from her place atop the kitchen counter, where she and Boyd were reading the instructions on the back of a pancake mix box.

Scott moved his hands from Isaac’s ribs to his shoulders and leaned down, swallowing his gasp of surprise. Isaac’s lips were soft and he tasted like flour and sugar, but also of skin and citrus and just a hint of something primal that made Scott want to rip his clothes off and mark Isaac as his own.

Isaac immediately kissed back, moving his hands up to tangle in Scott’s hair and pull him closer. He let his mouth open a bit when he felt the swipe of Scott’s tongue against his bottom lip, and let out a breathy sigh when Scott’s teeth sank gently into his lip.

There was a loud pounding at the door, the sound of the occasional idiot who didn’t know what a doorbell was.

“I got it.” Erica said, hopping off of the counter when Scott showed no signs of moving off of Isaac, instead trailing his mouth down to leave a mark on Isaac’s neck.

Erica pulled the door open. She was immediately shoved aside as Jackson barged in, eyes wild with anger.

“What the fuck?” He stopped dead when he saw Isaac and Scott tangled together on the floor.

Scott’s head jerked up, and he scrambled to his feet when he saw Jackson.

“I…” He began.

“So this is how you won the match of a lifetime.” Jackson laughed bitterly. “Of course.”

“Jackson.” Isaac began.

]“No no, get back to your little fag fest. I’ll just be on my way.” Jackson replied, his tone completely changed, a maniacal glint in his eyes. He turned around and strode out of the apartment, slamming the door shut behind him.

“Shit.” Scott dragged the back of his hand across his swollen lips and ran to the door, grabbing his jacket as he chased after Jackson.

“Shit.” Isaac repeated, pulling his knees up and covering his face. “Shit shit shit.”

“Well,” Erica dropped down next to her best friend. “I’m not going to say I told you so, but on the bright side, Boyd and I finally finished the pancakes!”

           

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's a bit short but I promise, no more lapses in updating, I'm writing the next one right now!


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> POOR SCOTT!

Scott was shivering. Or shaking. He couldn’t tell if it was freezing cold or the fact that he couldn’t find Jackson anywhere and he was on the verge of an anxiety attack. He had run around the block, scanning the street for a dirty blonde buzz cut but Jackson was gone. Probably in a cab, heading to some tabloid magazine to tell them that Scott enjoyed some cock on the side. Or that he was fucking Isaac. Tomorrow, it would be all over the sports magazines, and no one would ever be able to watch him fight without thinking that he regularly took it up the ass. And Isaac, the fragile relationship that he had with the beautiful blonde boy would be over. Dashed into pieces by a reporter hoping to make it big. Like a MMA fighter, hoping to make it big. 

He ran his fingers through his hair, trying to calm his frantic heartbeat. Okay, so Jackson was gone, but he did have a cell phone. And a home phone. And an email. Scott whipped out his phone, mentally thanking Stiles for programming all the numbers of the WFC directory into his contacts. He tapped on Jackson's number and pressed the phone to his ear, nails digging into the skin of his palm as he prayed that Jackson would just pick up and talk to him. 

"Please, please, please." Scott mouthed silently. When he got voicemail, he bit down hard on his lip and already felt the puncture marks closing up and healing. 

"Jackson," He blurted out. "Just don't tell anyone, okay? You don't know the whole story. You don't know what you're doing here, just don't tell anyone. Please. You don't know what this means to me. You don't know what he means to me." He stared at the screen, at the numbers ticking as they recorded the length of his call. And then he realized, at this time tomorrow, everything would be different. The little timer on the phone was his countdown.

 

"What happened?" Isaac asked quietly when Scott came back. There was a plate of untouched pancakes in front of him. 

"Uh, I found him." Scott sat down across from Isaac. "And he promised not to tell anyone. He was just surprised." Lie. If this was the last day he could spend with Isaac, he wanted Isaac to always remember it, unadulterated by worry or anger or sadness.

"Oh." Isaac frowned in surprised. "That's it? Are you sure?" 

"Yeah, don't worry." Scott cut himself a piece of Isaac's pancake and shoved it into his mouth as if he could choke down the truth rising to his mouth. "I grew up with Jackson, he wouldn't do that. He may seem cruel, but he wouldn't go that far." Lie. Jackson had once gone out of his way to out a boy at his birthday dinner in front of his devoutly Christian parents just because the boy in question had knocked him over in a lacrosse drill. 

"Good." Isaac smiled softly, and leaned across the table to kiss Scott gently on the lips. "Breakfast's ready." He laughed.

“Where’s Erica and Boyd?” Scott asked. The kitchen was still a mess of flour and water, but Erica and Boyd were nowhere to be found.

“I think they went back to Erica’s to uh, ‘check on her dog’.” Isaac grinned knowingly and took a sip of coffee.

Scott stared hungrily across the table at Isaac, trying to drink in his smile, his laugh, the way that his tongue darted out to lick away a smear of maple syrup on his lip. He knew that after tomorrow, he would never see Isaac again.

“Is there something on my face?” Isaac rubbed his finger over his chin.

“What?”

“You’re staring.” Isaac touched his chin again. “Do I have syrup on my face?”

“No.” Scott said finally, pulling the corners of his mouth up in a smile. He leaned back a bit. “I’m just looking.”

Isaac blushed and bit on his lip. “To think that a two weeks ago you were telling me that you’re straight.”

“I think that you managed to convince me that I’m not.”

“Yeah?” Isaac’s smile grew and he stood up, walking over to Scott slowly. “How did I manage that?”

“What can I say? I have a thing for guys with mean right hooks.” Scott murmured as Isaac straddled him. “And the blowjob definitely helped.”

There were a few beams of sunlight streaming in through the high windows of Isaac’s kitchen, and as he passed through one of them to kiss Scott, Isaac was momentarily illuminated. The tips of his eyelashes, his thick curls, even the tiny little hairs on his face were lit gold.

Scott surged towards Isaac, pressing his lips against the other boy’s hungrily, tangling his hands in Isaac’s hair, licking the taste of maple syrup and coffee out of his mouth.

Isaac let out a surprised, “Mmph”, but reciprocated immediately, pressing himself closer to Scott until he could feel the searing heat of Isaac’s skin through his thin cotton shirt.

Everything was electric. Every press of Isaac’s lips, the warmth from his skin, the urgent pressure of Isaac’s hands against the small of Scott’s back. There was an ache in his chest that grew with every kiss and all Scott could do was keep from bursting into tears. He nipped at Isaac’s lip until he parted them, swiping his tongue over Scott’s bottom lip.

“What was that for?” Isaac panted when he pulled back to breathe.

“You’re beautiful.” Scott whispered as he leaned forward to suck a mark onto Isaac’s collarbone, laving his tongue over the mark before sinking his teeth into it, making Isaac gasp and tip his head back, baring his throat for Scott.

A growl escaped from Scott’s throat and he kissed a line up Isaac’s throat to his lips, almost desperately. Isaac’s skin was impossibly soft and radiated heat. There was the everpresent hint of citrus and salt, but this time, there was something else, the sharp taste of home and _mine_ that Scott couldn’t ignore any longer.

“Mmm. Scott. Slow down. We have all day.” Isaac said breathily as Scott dragged his teeth across the side of his neck and sucked another mark at the corner of Isaac’s jaw.

“Are you complaining?” Scott pressed the heel of his hand against the front of Isaac’s sweatpants, where he was already hard and leaking.

Isaac shook his head, his breath coming in pants. His hips pressed up against Scott's hand.

“You’re so hard.” Scott murmured. “I haven’t even touched you yet. Imagine how good it'd feel with my lips around your cock." 

Isaac’s whimper went right to Scott’s cock. “Please. Please.” He pressed his lips against Scott’s, a filthy tangle of tongues and scrapes of teeth. Isaac moved his hands from Scott’s back to run them under Scott’s shirt and up Scott’s torso, pausing right underneath his collarbones before raking his nails down to the waistband of Scot’s jeans in one quick movement.

The pain was unexpected, and it was more unexpected when Scott let out a loud moan and a bolt of arousal made his hips jerk up hard against Isaac.

Isaac grinned against Scott’s lips and tugged his shirt over his head, grinding against his slowly.

“I want to make love to you.” Scott gasped against Isaac’s lips before pulling back. Isaac's lips were swollen and red, and his eyes were half lidded and his pupils were blown with lust. “Can I? Can I show you how much you mean to me? I'll make you feel so good.” He rubbed his hand against Isaac’s erection as encouragement. If Scott had to let go of this, of Isaac tomorrow, then he would take whatever he could get today.

Isaac moaned and his eye fluttered closed at the imagery. “Yeah. Please.” He said finally, voice strained. “Upstairs.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> he...hehe...im a tease.  
> Btw, does anyone know A Car, A Torch, A Death by Twenty One Pilots? So heart aching


End file.
